Oneshots
by CatalystOfTheSoul
Summary: One-shots that help the writers block. CH50, 'Yin and Yang' Challenge response. Yin and Yang, black and white, ghost and human, dead and alive, boy and…girl?
1. Phans

**I decided to create a one-shot story line, where I will place all of the evil plot-bunnies that are giving me writers block on my more important stories. So, here's the first one. My updates will not be regular.**

**Description: The Phan-Club sees Danny...Post PP, Lessons in Danny Phantom Philosophy by Darth Frodo helped for the background story.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Danny Phantom, I wouldn't have to resort to writing letters to plead for DP to have a fourth season. So, no, I don't own it.**

* * *

**Phans**

* * *

I walked through the busy streets, head down. Skulker had decided that since I was a so much more valuable prize now, he should be hunting me twice a day. Or three times, I don't know because he hasn't come back yet.

Whatever the choice was, I was exhausted. Skulker, Technus, Youngblood, and Desiree all in one day. Them, and Dash constantly hanging over my head making sarcastic remarks why I didn't help in Antarctica with Phantom and my parents, I had to hold Valerie back for the entire lunch period.

It wasn't her fault he didn't know. Very few people actually knew my secret after I revealed it. Valerie, her dad, my parents, world leaders, Kwan (I have no clue how he got there) a few mechanical engineers, helicopter pilots, the GIW (their faces were _so_ funny when the president told them I wasn't to be experimented on, but they perked up when he said Vlad was fair game) and few random people from the media. All of whom were sworn to secrecy by the government in respect for what I did.

After that, mom and dad had insisted to tell my teacher, nurse, and principal my secret, so they wouldn't go as hard on me. I was reluctant at first, but the advantages won out. I just made sure there was a government agent with us prepared to use the 'audit your taxes' threat if need be. They took it relatively well, if you don't count Lancer fainting.

I slumped my shoulders as I walked, lugging my backpack towards Fentonworks. Why didn't I fly home today? Looking up, I noticed two news helicopters, with their shiny new ghost detection scanners hanging of the side, a neon green 'F' plastered on it. Dad had fixed them so the scanners wouldn't recognize me. Unfortunately, that didn't work when I was in ghost mode, so here I am, walking.

Nearing Fentonworks, just turning the corner really, my ghost sense went off, again. Sighing, I ran the last few steps into the house, setting down my backpack I glanced at a clearly startled Jazz, shouted "Going ghost!" Transformed, and phased out through the wall.

I didn't bother to become invisible when I phased out; it wasn't unusual to see Danny Phantom come out of the Fenton's house anymore.

Looking around, I resolved to make this fast before the news helicopters arrived to get in harms way. All I had to do was wait for the screaming to start. "AHHHHHHH!!" Yup, there it was. I turned south towards the girly scream, and saw the entire 'Phan Club' looking right at me. Dash screamed again, wow, I didn't know Dash screamed like _that_.

I glanced around suspiciously, I saw no ghost, "Where is the ghost at?"

Paulina's voice rang through my ears right below me, and I felt a tug on my right leg. "Right here." I looked right into her 'head-over-heels' gaze and down at me foot that was currently trapped in the grip of ghost gauntlets.

"Ah, s-sorry. But I have work to do. Uh, rain check?" Paulina looked at me flirtatiously, not letting go. "Seriously, Paulin-mam, could you _please_ let go of my leg? There is a ghost out here, and if I don't find it, there will be lots of bad things happening."

Paulina still wasn't letting go, Danny looked up frantically, and found that he was completely surrounded by the Phan Club, all of whom where holding some sort of Fenton equipment. Why, oh why did dad have to start selling Fentonwork's stuff? It seemed like a good idea at the time, but now he was really having second thoughts. He felt another tug, this time his wrist was incased in Fenton Fishing wire. His body was sinking down to the ground, Paulina was pulling, and Dash had a very strong grip on that Fenton pole.

I looked around, seeing all of the phan-filled eyes around me, seeking mercy; I didn't want to hurt anyone. My gaze rested on Kwan, who was nervously holding a Fenton Thermos, our eyes met, and he looked at me apologetically.

More wire and gauntlets took hold of me, I opened my mouth to shout for help, but someone shot Fenton-Goop at my mouth was covered by the sticky substance. I squirmed helplessly; I really didn't want to do this to my biggest fans. They were giving me no choice, as I was pressed against the ground, a small path parted for Kwan. Shaking, the boy directed the thermos at me.

Now or never. I twisted in the grip of so many, glaring around at anyone willing to meet my eyes. All I saw were love-struck gazes, embarrassed glances, or insanely happy staring that made me really uncomfortable. I finally turned myself back to Kwan, willing him to look at me. My eyes softened when meeting his tear filled eyes.

Dash and the others put him up to this. I knew the Phan Club was getting worried about Kwan's sudden distance concerning me. They had no idea it was to help the guy keep a secret from his friends. This was his reinstatement as a Phan leader, he was one of the first, they would drag him to it until the end.

I knew this only because Kwan was telling me they were going to have this big reinstatement event just for him, at the time Kwan had no clue what the were going to do, I guess this is it. The poor guy, these are his only friends, and no way would Sam let me invite him into our group. Some past experience about clouds and poetry.

I let the ghost energy I was building up to dissipate, knowing full well how much I was going to regret that choice. It was probably going to hurt the people around me if I let it go anyway. Locking my eyes with the shaking jock holding the thermos, I nodded slowly and carefully.

Kwan's eyes went wide for a moment, but he was already being heavily prompted by his friends to just do it already. A familiar blue light enveloped my body and I felt myself unwillingly get sucked towards the thermos.

The last thing I remember seeing before getting trapped inside was the ghost that had set my ghost sense off.

The Box Ghost was so going to get it for this.

* * *

**Haha, this story makes me giggle. Wonder what the Phans' are up to going to do with Danny now? No, get your mind out of the gutter please, not **_**that**_**. I don't really think I'm going to continue this (unless if I'm prompted by lots of reviews) so I'll leave it up to the imagination.**

**Remember, reviews are good for the soul. Tell me about any errors I might have, or if this one-shot was realistic. Thanks for reading!**

**Catalyst**


	2. What have I done?

**A/N: Ugh, I hate rereading my past chapters and seeing all the stuff I did wrong. Oh well, I'll use that for future reference. On with the chapter that attacks the writers block monster, full force! **

**Disclaimer: Why does FF force us to write disclaimers? It just makes the fact that I don't own Danny Phantom hurt more. **

**-Chapter summary: Post PP, Maddie's escalating fears are getting the better of her…angsty and slightly depressing. Rated 'T'.**

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What have I done?

* * *

I sighed when I heard another crash from the lab, knowing Jack was probably back in the there experimenting, instead of out getting the groceries like I told him to. What would it take to get that man to go shopping? He was a genius with the inventions, but when it came to anything else he was just so _distracted_.

Resolving to go downstairs and, for the fifth time today, remind him that he needed to go get the groceries while I cleaned the house, I went down the steps to the lab, ready to jump out of the way from any explosive debris if something else was going to blow up.

A startled gasp escaped my mouth when I entered the lab, it was in shambles, broken equipment, beakers, and a torn up blueprint for my next invention was now decorating the floor. My son was floating the middle of it all, a beat up thermos in hand, he was bruised and clutching his stomach with tightly closed eyes. It didn't take a rocket scientist to see what the dents in the walls were from.

"Danny?" I could barley hear my voice, it was so harsh and constricted from the frightening scene before me. But somehow, Danny must have heard me, because he looked up at me, the pain in his eyes was enough to make any mother panic.

Without thinking I ran forward and grabbed him in the biggest bear hug I had in me, sobbing hysterically and asking if he was ok between strangled gasps. "Mom…need...air."

I let go immediately and looked him over critically. His hazmat suit was torn in various places and there were large quantities of ecto-blood seeping to the floor, he looked awful. I noted grimly the reason Danny wasn't currently in human form was because he would surely bleed to death if he did that just now.

The white rings appeared at Danny's waist and I panicked, shouting at his face to stop, what was he thinking, doing that in his condition? Danny only smiled at me and said he was fine, that everything would be ok, he would protect me. Him, protect me. I was his _mother _and _I_ was supposed to be the one protecting _him_!

The rings finished the transformation, leaving a bleeding and week Danny Fenton. Danny looked at me, his eyes conveying obliviousness to his very serious wounds. "Mom, are you ok? Did the ghost hurt you? Is anything broken?"

I was too busy to hear my son; I was looking at the pool of blood coating the floor. I couldn't protect my son. My son, my baby boy was protecting me. And look at the blood he leaves behind. Because of _me_. It's my entire fault he hurts himself like this. I know it.

"Mom, I'm feeling kinda light-headed." My baby boy swayed and fell into my arms. I was paralyzed and I watched his eyes as they stared up at me, pleading for help. I couldn't help him, it was my fault. I'm the reason he puts himself in danger.

I can't remember how long I stood, holding a bleeding boy in my arms; he had become too weak to cry out to me. I watched as his eyes dimmed into nothing. It took forever to realize that my son had stopped breathing. That he would never breathe again. When I did realize this, and that it was all my fault, I screamed.

I was the reason for my baby's death, my Danny.

* * *

I awoke screaming. The high-pitched cry woke up every member of the Fenton household in record time. First to my side was Jack, who was asking at first about ghosts, then when he realized that it wasn't a ghost he tried to calm me down, and pause my screaming for a moment long enough to explain.

Next came in Jazz she held in one hand a Fenton Peeler, and a book in the other, looking around the room with caution, then understanding and worry. She came to me, also trying to calm my screams. But it didn't matter, they weren't who I needed right now.

Jazz and Jack were shouting over the screams, using every matter of physiology they new to shut me up, it wasn't working and my throat was becoming hoarse. But finally I saw him, my shouts stopped abruptly. Husband and daughter glanced at one another before turning their heads to the doorway.

Danny stood there, in his pajamas, ruffled hair and an old bruise from last night (it was about three am now) on his chin. I scrambled out of the blankets, forcing my way over the other two on the bed to get to Danny. My foot caught on someone's head and I tumbled to the floor in a heap.

The next thing I knew strong arms were lifting me up and wrapping me in a hug. "Another nightmare?" He whispered softly in my ear. I nodded weakly over his shoulder. This is so wrong; I should be the one comforting him, saving _him_. Why can't I be strong? Why can't I be the protector, his hero? Why do I have to be the one leaning on my son? It was so wrong, and yet he put up with it.

Danny lifted me up in his arms and cradled me to his chest, falling gracefully to the floor. I sniffed and tears flowed down my cheeks. "What was it this time?" When did Danny's voice become so gentle?

"I-I, it was, Danny. I can't save you. I can't protect you. Your enemies are too strong, but I'm your mother, and I still can only sit in the background and watch as you get hurt everyday. It isn't fair; this isn't supposed to be this way. I want to help you, but I will only get in your way. What kind of mother _am_ I? I can't even keep my baby boy from coming home without some form of injury or another."

Danny scowled; I knew he was used to my nightmares by now this was one of my most frequent, second only to Vlad coming back and killing Jack while I wasn't looking. But those dreams sometimes combined with Vlad slaughtering my husband and then killing my son and daughter, in which case are the worst dreams I have, but by some miracle, they don't come too often.

Danny gently rocked me back and forth. Danny was taking this so well, maybe he was used to it, was this the first time I woke up with nightmares? I can't remember...it's all slipping away from me. Jack sat up and watched Danny rock me back to sleep, Jazz too sat and watched. I finally closed my eyes and fell into a dreamless sleep, thinking that I would remember in the morning.

* * *

Danny looked up when Maddie had dozed off. Meeting the eyes of Jack and Jazz, they all shared the same worried looks. "It's getting worse isn't it?" Danny's question went unanswered as the family all watched the sleeping woman that was now softly humming to herself in deep sleep.

"I'll call Dr. Jed in the morning. You two get some sleep, I'll watch her tonight." Jack got up and lifted Maddie out of Danny's arms, replacing her back onto the blankets.

Jazz smiled weakly, "Thanks dad, do you think this time she'll remember all this when she wakes up again?"

Jack sighed and looked at his daughter, hating his answer as he said it, "No, she'll most likely be happy, scientist Maddie when she wakes up again."

Danny looked down, "You know, I thought it would be a good thing that she didn't remember in the mornings, but this is getting out of hand, mom's slowly loosing her mind, and there is _nothing_ we can do!" the frustration in the teens voice said it all.

"I know Danny, but we have to be patient, when we find out what fear is causing the dreams we can do something then. But for now, all we can do is give her as much support as possible. She's a Fenton after all, and Fenton's don't go down without a fight!" Jack looked up proudly at Jazz's encouragement.

"You're right Jazzy-pants! Soon, she'll be good as new! Now go back to bed and get some sleep." Danny and Jazz nodded appreciatively, and walked out of the room. Jack lay back down next to his wife; the smile that once always graced features had disappeared. He cuddled his wife closer to him.

Jack finally let the tears fall from his eyes.

* * *

Vlad looked into the viewing portal, not sure which emotion he was feeling right now. There was despair, yes, plenty of that. Maddie would surely die if no cure could be found.

Next was anger, how stupid Skulker was to infect Maddie and not Jack! Could he not listen to the simplest of instructions!

Vlad's anger at Skulker was second only to the anger he felt for himself. Vlad was a smart man; he knew part of this was his fault. Who creates a sickness and no antidote? Better yet, who creates a sickness and doesn't even take notes of how it was created in order to _make_ an antidote if need be?!

Stupid, stupid. Now Maddie will have to overcome her fears alone, in her sleep, with none of his help! She can't even work on it when fully awake! The stupid ghost fear-vaccine only came to life in the sub-conscious, she would know nothing the moment she was awake enough to need to.

Vlad sighed, depression finally taking hold, all he could do was sit and watch as the illness he had created with his own two hands kill the love of his life, and hope.

Hope that Jack and the two Fenton children could pull Maddie through this.

"What have I done?"

* * *

**I have no clue where this came from, but it freaks **_**me**_** out a little. And that's saying something. So sorry if it was a little…off, but I had to get rid of this bunny to fight the writers block! (And I normally picture Maddie as a strong figure in the family, not damsel in distress, sorry if it offended you in any way that she was put in that light.)  
**

**Anywho, reviews are treasured and put in very nice homes, flames are welcomed in to help keep winter from returning early and even putting me on any alert or favorite makes me jump with glee! Thanks for reading,**

**Catalyst**


	3. Dearest Diary

**This one just kind of hit me while I was trying to read Breaking Dawn.**

**Keyword, **_**trying, **_**my brother insists on making sure I have a miserable time of it, I'm not even past the first few pages. **

**So, hence this very…different fic. I might make two chapters of it, I really don't know yet…rated 'K plus' only for safety, because I'm not very good with rating things.**

**Summary: Post PP, Vlad reflects on his actions inside a diary. Ending has a twist.  
**

**Disclaimer-I don't own Danny Phantom, if I did, I wouldn't be getting up at four in the morning to watch reruns. I would be writing more episodes.**

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I glanced down at the happy, smiling faces with a depressed sigh. I wasn't entirely regretting what I had done; I knew fully the consequences of my actions. It was just too bad that I couldn't be down there with them, smiling and laughing like I had no care in the world. All I get to do was watch invisibly while I write in the only thing that understands me. My dearest diary, what would I do without you?

At least the boy got a happy ending. I'm glad that everything went so perfectly according to plan. Danny was growing to be such a good hunter, no ghost dared enter Amity without his permission now.

Well, no ghosts but the ones I send to keep the boy in good graces with the city. I can't very well let them think life would be better without Danny Phantom now can I? I'm very lucky he can't sense half-ghosts, or he would fly up here right now to look for me. And if Danny knew it was me, he wouldn't hold back.

Many believe that he and I are mortal enemies, two who hate one another with more ferocity then any other rivalry known to man and ghost alike. Those over-dramatic media people make it _sound_ that way at least. I on the other hand, hold no hatred towards Danny. More like a fatherly love, one that I am well aware will never be returned. I realized this when Danny and his mother stormed off of my doorstep in Colorado.

Another sad sigh escapes me when I think of Maddie. She too, will forever consider me an enemy. It's too bad; they may never know what I did to help them have a better life.

You see dearest diary, I knew that they would never trust me after that. The two people I cared about so greatly were destined to despise me.

After I realized this, accepted it, I could feel my ghostly obsession begin to take over, to fight in order to get them back. It took the longest, hardest internal battle I had ever fought to keep myself from caving in to instinct and forcing them to follow me. I almost lost when Jasmine came to my doorstep asking for a place to stay, half my mind was trying to convince me that it was real, and that she truly had come to be with me because she liked me.

But I knew she was aware of my secret, and what I had done to her brother. I played along, and in the end, she and Daniel left feeling satisfied that they had stopped one of my evil plots. Their foolishness really does surprise me at times.

You see, during this internal battle I had come up with a plan.

I watched Daniel and his friends, I was surprised to find Jazz knew of his secret (I'm sure she had no clue when I first met her at the reunion) so I was aware of her treachery, also, Jazz has to learn not to whisper her thoughts out loud when I'm hugging her. "Yeah, keep hugging; we'll see who hugs last." Definitely hit me as 'suspicious'. It didn't hurt my plan too much though, in fact, I think it helped.

My plan was going perfectly. Danni, young Daniel's 'failed' clone that I created turned out to be a great ally to him, and in the future can be an even greater help then imagined, as she has already made many friends as she lives in the Ghost Zone, some of which will help Danny if he is ever in need. Exactly as I hoped it would be.

I built friends for Danny, you may call it manipulation, but I call it helping grow a boy into a man. Dora, at first an enemy of Phantom, now turned friend after I pushed her paranoid brother into thinking that the halfa's choice would be his best option for romance. That snowballed into Danny and Dora teaming together to overthrow him. Another ally made.

Having Danny defeat the ghost king, that created more friends for him then I could have hoped, not to mention the respect the boy got. Frostbite was a formidable opponent, but a wonderful comrade, _if_ you could sway him to be on your side.

I have no clue how Danny managed to get onto ClockWork's soft side, the time ghost was known to take on no charges, and rarely meddled. From what I gathered, ClockWork has meddled with time to help Danny twice, and only once at the order of the Observants (who were, apparently, tricked in that situation) I still am stumped when I try to think of what happened when time was bent, as it is held as a very well kept secret.

But still, ClockWork is most likely one of Danny's most powerful friends, I'm just happy Danny got into such good standing with the master of time.

I have built more people for Danny as well, as the boy will one day greatly appreciate, one such ghost being Wulf. Suggesting to Walker that Wulf could be used to track Danny down was brilliant, and had the desired effect.

Amorpho too. I made very sure to tip him off of Amity being a wonderful place to get attention. He took the bait so easily, and a week later, I find that Danny has someone standing up for his name in the Ghost Zone, Amorpho. I took that news with great pleasure.

I made sure that the Box Ghost was humiliated and laughed at time and time again, until the square-obsessed ghost snapped and stole Pandora's Box. The fiasco ending with Danny scoring yet another person willing to stand by his side.

And finally, Valerie, it was a shame I had to reveal my secret to her though, also a terribly great risk. If she released that information to the press…it would have ruined my plans. But, me being the risk taker that I am, I went with it. I needed Valerie able to accept the existence of half-ghost _and _good ghosts, she was the 'shoot first, ask questions later' type, Valerie shooting at Daniel after she discovered his secret would take to much of hit for Danny's self-esteem, something I could not allow.

Don't get me wrong, I didn't let Danny have any form of a break while building up his allies. I made his enemies, Vortex, Undergrowth, Skulker, and other various ghosts. Danny needed something to fight to get him stronger, to train him for times to come.

I became mayor, to teach Daniel the finer points of chess. The politics of a fight are just as important as the weapons and defenses. Freakshow was a prime example of having to use your mind, not your fists. I still consider myself Danny's most difficult enemy though, because I used cunning and skill much more so then simply leaving my house to 'destroy' him.

I sigh once more, overlooking the happy barbeque beneath me. All so many carefully executed moves, all for the one event that changed _everything_. The Disasteroid. It really set my final plan into motion; it was my ultimate sacrifice.

I took the infi-map and allowed Danny to get it back so it would be for his use later on in my plot, I positioned my satellite next to Saturn's most troublesome rock, I did _all_ the math, I even knew what was going to happen to Danny's powers. It was the _perfect_ plan.

But, as is its nature, perfect had a price.

That price was me. I revealed myself to get motivate Danny, so he would do what I knew I couldn't. Rally all of the ghosts together (I gave him the help of Skulker, who can turn out to be a very good leader in times of need) but still, it wouldn't happen if Danny weren't the one to do it.

A true shame, I am now an outcast for the sake of a mere boy. But I can at least find happiness in his happiness. I can see Daniel right now; he is in the middle of a war-like water fight against Valerie. They're both really good shots, and they both know how to dodge. Evenly matched in my opinion, since they're currently dry.

A smile graces my face now, dearest diary; I wish to be down there, perhaps in the place of the buffoon Jack making burgers.

How I envy his position. He can be a father to Danny, he can openly love Maddie and no one would question _his_ sanity.

To them I'm the 'crazed up frootloop' as Daniel so lovingly puts it. I hate that title…but then I love it at the same time. I impacted Daniel's life well enough that he gave me a nickname, that should mean something right?

I wish…so much that he would trust me, let me train him directly instead of using all of this stealth and hiding in the shadows. Not to mention the risk, I have to send out more and more powerful ghosts after Danny, he needs to keep up the challenge. Trust me, they don't come cheap, I walk away almost every time with immense bruises for directly blackmailing a powerful ghost.

At least they always cave to my will at the end, and it is worth it. Just look at how strong it's made Danny, you can even see the muscle when he's in human form. A feature that I'm sure will make every girl swoon and envy his current Goth girlfriend.

I find myself sighing for about the millionth time today. My actions finally made Danny admit his love for the girl. It was so painstakingly obvious to anyone, why it took them so long to believe it is beyond most. But I think I can relate.

I never admitted my feelings to Maddie, and then that accident came, with the drop in self-confidence because of my acne-covered face, I never asked her out. All the time I spent in the hospital gave Jack room to talk with her alone, and look at the result.

Maddie and Jack, together, happily married and with two kids. One of which is a very powerful half-ghost.

I feel like a father to Danny, because of our status. I will be the only one to understand him; I am the one who should tell him what he's going through. I know he'll want that eventually, I know exactly which subject he'll ask about too.

Ghost obsession, I mentioned it earlier dearest diary. I guess I should elaborate in case if I forget and need to check back on this one day.

Ghost obsession is what provides most ghosts with the drive to gather enough power to create a form. The Box Ghost being a very likely example. He's obsessed with boxes: the boxes he wants to look into are found in the human realm. He'll need to hold his form in the human world; so he builds power. Once he gathers enough to leave the Ghost Zone, he leaves and does not return until he needs more energy (or Danny throws him back in).

The cycle repeats. It will never end because the Box Ghost will never be satisfied. Ghost obsession can give you monumental 'highs' of happiness, but it's like a drug. Once you taste victory once, you want it again, and more. It keeps building and the price keeps escalating, but you don't stop, because you're hooked.

Obsession is extremely dangerous, and nearly impossible to fight, if I were not half human I don't think I would be able to fight it. Ghost obsession could easily get me killed and turn me into a monster. (Contrary to popular belief, I am not a monster.)

I know that I have ghost obsession whether I like it or not, I even know what they are (or were). My obsessions were these; power, Maddie, kill Jack. Then Daniel came along and he was added to the list. I was quite happy with it for a while.

But then Danny _became_ the list. I'm not sure when that transition occurred, but all of a sudden Maddie was a want, not a necessity. Jack's death was pointless to me, not to mention it would hurt the emotions of Daniel, and I can't hurt him any more then I already am, power was just a convenience to get what I needed. Danny was the center of my universe, ghost obsession boosting it and making it impossible to ignore.

Before I go on to explain this, understand that I am not in love with the boy. I'm forty-seven years old and he's _fifteen_, please give me some credit. If I were gay I would find someone more my age, thank you very much.

On with what I was saying, I wanted Danny to have a good life, I wanted him to be strong and able to embrace the world, and I desperately wanted to be a positive constant in his life.

But I was his archenemy, so that was impossible. My first plan came to me. Trick Danny and Maddie to having no where to go but my doorstep, and convince them to stay with me. Maddie was a bonus to getting Daniel, the real prize.

After they left me is when I realized I would forever be hated. So my next plan came into action, standing in the shadows and training Danny through tasks. Ghostly enemies that I throw at him, including the plethora of allies he gains.

It worked out, but Danny was falling to stress and other such things. I found that he would need to reveal his secret, perhaps not to the world, but to certain select people so he could have a lighter load. That was when I started the blue print planning that lead to the asteroid and Earth's imminent demise.

I'm still slightly baffled that my ghost obsession brought me to give up my position in the human world as a powerful billionaire.

What kills me the most is that it isn't enough; it will never be enough.

I think I'll go now, the happy scene below just makes me more miserable. Thank you for listening dearest diary. This was a very long first entry, and I look forward to the next.

I guess what my therapist said was true; writing out your feelings really can help you.

* * *

Danny closed the small black notebook, his eyes wide.

Emotion was erupting inside him, out of control and at a critically dangerous level. Overwhelmed, Danny flew off, in the opposite direction of Vlad's still form as fast as he could go.

* * *

**Whoo, is Vlad still alive? What happened? Did I just leave you hanging with the possibility of never continuing this? I am so _evil _sometimes.**

**I did this in honor of Cordria, after reading 'Family' I promised to write a Vlad torture fic…this was the closest I could get to torturing Vlad with my pacifist mind. I hope you liked it Cori! I am also extremely proud of it, as I think it goes so in depth of Vlad's personal feelings and brings a twist to the reasons behind everything he did. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it.  
**

**Comments? Flames? –gasp- Fanmail? Criticism? It's all welcome here! Just click that not so cute little button at the bottom, and I personally reply to every review I get!**

**Catalyst**

**P.S. Breaking Dawn is AMAZING! You should all read the Twilight series, as it's just so…wow. I haven't read it all though yet, so if you send a spoiler in a review or PM you will die quickly at my hand XD. Thank you for reading.**


	4. Uh Beware?

**Hey everybody! Today is my birthday, and I decided that a one-shot was in order for the occasion.**

**Summary-The Box Ghost is heading back to the Ghost Zone after a hard day's haunting when he spots something out of place. Post PP.**

**Disclaimer- Come now, if I owned DP I would happily shout that to the world, but unfortunately, I have to write fanfiction and hope people see my love for the amazingly deep show that I don't own.**

* * *

Uh...Beware?

* * *

I flew through the air, laughing and attacking anyone who dared enter my sight. As usual, the people screamed and ran from my terrorizing form.

Today was going very well, I had already haunted 'Boxes R Us' the 'Post Office' and my own favorite spot 'Bubbles of Bubble Wrap' (They had boxes _and_ bubble wrap!). Considering it a job-well-done I was now heading back to the portal into the ghost realm.

I intended to get some rest even though I wasn't truly tired, for I now had bragging rights to say that I just haunted Amity without getting caught! A true feat even Skulker could not accomplish!

For I am the Box Ghost, master of all things square and triangular! Fear my ultimate power and—what's this?

The ghost boy is sitting near by, on an advertisement sign that was proudly displaying his face with the words 'Welcome to Amity Park, home of Danny Phantom: World Savior!'

What took me by surprise so much was his emotional depression (as the all-powerful Box Ghost, I am rarely taken by surprise). Anyway, as a ghost I can taste emotion as it comes off of people, the ghost-boy being a halfa I had a vague idea of what he was feeling every now and then. But that was rare, and I couldn't ever taste his emotion when he was in ghost form unless if it were really strong.

What I felt now was almost overwhelming my all-powerful senses and making me feel more than a little down. Curiosity overcoming my intentions to go straight home, I drifted towards him.

A stupid idea to say the least, the child's ghost sense went off the moment I drifted near. I backtracked quickly, trying to make myself as small as possible from one so strong. Even I, the almighty Box Ghost, knows when to back away from a powerful being in a rotten mood.

He looked up at me, and met my eyes softly. His gaze was tired and weak, I felt another wave of depression flood my senses. "Uh…Beware?" I squeaked out quietly.

He sighed and looked back down, "Go away." That was all he said, otherwise he completely ignored me. At least he wasn't going to unload his 'misplaced aggression' on me, what a relief.

I don't know whether I have a death wish, or I'm too curious for my own good, but I found myself moving forward and I sat next to him on the sign post, making absolutely sure that I would not upset him too far with my presence.

"What's wrong?" It was a stupid question, I should leave, but I was held back by something. Stupid curiosity killed the cat, I need to leave…but then again, satisfaction brought it back.

He sighed, "Do you never understand the meaning of the words 'go away'?" I blinked at him quixotically.

Phantom's features hardened suddenly, and I was almost sure he was going to burn a hole in the ground he was staring at. "I mean, you're always trying to 'take over the world' with _boxes_. Honestly, could you be any more pathetic? How could anyone ever think that something as simple and stupid as a _box_ could do anything?! You're a _joke_. Why don't you just accept that and GO AWAY!"

I stared, taken aback by the sudden outburst of anger, completely ignoring the fact that a few light posts exploded down the street. He insulted _my_ passion. No one insults the Box Ghost's passion. Never. Still, venom wasn't really my thing, so even I got a little shock when it coated my tongue with a fever vastly unknown to my character.

"I am the Box Ghost. Boxes are what I do, kid. It's who I am, and it isn't _pathetic_. As you and all the other ghosts think it is, just go into your home and see how many boxes there are.

"That glowing box that humans stare at every day, the box that holds all of your clothes until you wear them, the boxes with wheels that help you move from one place to another, the boxes under your bed that hold all different kinds of junk, boxes, boxes, boxes!

"They're everywhere; you humans can't live without them. I am just exploiting that fact to get my revenge on the world! It is not a pathetic habit! Just because you have the power level of a king doesn't mean that other things, like boxes, are _pathetic _to be obsessed over.

"I'm sorry that me and my _boxes_ aren't threatening enough for you to be worried at my strength! If you didn't have the power of intangibility, would I still be an annoyance? Or would I be a real problem?!

"If you weren't here to protect your precious town, think of the destruction that I alone could do!" Phantom looked at me after my outburst, and I felt his depression worsen.

"You…you really think that?" Phantom's voice cracked a little on the last word.

"Think what kid? That boxes' aren't pathetic? I think I made that pretty clear already." I can't believe I'm talking to the halfa like an _equal_. I know I've done lots of stupid stuff, but this is by far the _stupidest_. Maybe I should leave…

"No, that…that if I weren't here to protect the town you would be able take it over, alone, I mean." I grinned, easily envisioning my takeover of Amity with only minor difficulties.

"Phantom, listen, the red hunter has troubles chasing me. And I go easy on her, as the all-powerful Box Ghost, I could do her a lot more damage then she does me. Just yesterday, I was at the shipping wharf, and there are plenty of really heavy boxes that could have taken care of her easy, but I didn't use them. Want to know why?"

Phantom's face tightened at what I said, and his voice came out a little strained. "The 'all-powerful Box Ghost' comment aside, yes, I do want to know."

Oh I see, he's trying not to laugh at my 'patheticness' just when I was beginning to think of him as an equal. He's just like all the others who laugh at me…but maybe I can prove him wrong. If I can prove to the halfa that he's wrong, then I must be right.

"I am the Box Ghost, I don't kill my future subjects… Besides, I don't want to have to deal with _another_ ghost that is obsessed with 'protecting the town' and all of that other nonsense." I almost fell off of my seat when a crushing weight of depression engulfed me completely.

"Will you cut that out? I'm starting to get a head-ache from your emotions." I rubbed my head to emphasize my point, but the ghost-child only looked down with a heavy sigh.

"Did you say I have the power of a king?"

All of these abrupt questions are beginning to make my head spin; it's that or the depression he keeps on giving off. "Yes, you beat Pariah Dark; of course you have a king's power. If you beat a king, then you must be a king."

Phantom looked like he rolled his eyes, and commented dryly that my logic was in need of a check-up. He insults my way of thinking? I, the all-powerful Box Ghost, behold a brilliant mind!

How dare he say that I have a skewed way of logic, and to think I was actually going to hold a civil conversation with him—"…are you even listening to me?"

"Huh?" I blinked at Phantom's aggravated face, heavily feeling the now all too familiar depression swell up and completely surround the area.

"Of course you weren't listening." Phantom's bitterness digging a sharp edge into my mind. Wait, is that guilt? I, the all-powerful Box Ghost do not feel guilt! And yet…it's there, stinging.

I looked down, how do I handle this emotion? It has been so long…I think…an apology is what I'm supposed to do. Isn't it what you do when you mess up in a task and the ghost you're working for is about to rip your throat out? I know I have it in my handbook somewhere.

Well, he may not be ripping my throat out, but I really hate this emotion. I forced my eyes up and looked around. Meeting Phantom's eyes and making sure not to flinch away from them. "Sorry."

That sounded a little forced when it came out. I wonder if he'll be mad that I didn't sound exactly sincere…and why do I still feel that guilty emotion? I said I was sorry! It should be gone.

The ghost kid locked his gaze with mine, and I felt his depression lessen, just a little, but it felt like a breath of fresh air in this tense atmosphere. "It's okay." Phantom smiled at me, only a tiny smile, but I could feel the depression begin to beat itself back. If only I could get it away from me for good now…

I know! The ghosts were talking about it being Phantom's one-year anniversary of getting his powers today! As I always say, if it's your death-day, it's always good reason to celebrate! "Hey Phantom, want to go to a party with me?"

To say the least, he was startled by my question. Phantom's eyes grew a little wide and his jaw dropped slightly. "Wh-what?"

I grinned at the shock on his face, and once again felt the depression pause, almost like it was holding its breath. "You know a party. It is the one year anniversary of getting your powers today right? Don't ask how I know kid, it was the talk of the Ghost Zone all week."

Phantom was too stunned to answer, so I answered for him. "Of course you'll come! We can get into so much trouble! First, we can head off into the contraband section of the Ghost Zone, tinker around in there for some boxes, plus it will get on Walker's nerves to no end! Ooh! Then we can head out and find Johnny 13 and see if he isn't doing anything and wants to come 'play'.

"Trust me kid, if we can get Johnny, Skulker, and maybe Youngblood it will be one heck of a fun day! We can go pester the Frightknight while he's 'sleeping' in that little pumpkin of his. Then we can go and throw snowballs at Kempler, come on it'll be a guys night out!

"Besides, you need to dig out of that depression you have going on, it's giving me a serious headache." I looked at Phantom with a goofy grin planted on my face. He looked a little skeptical, but I have an idea, and there is no way I am going to let it go now!

"I don't think that's such a good idea…I mean, those are my enemies you're talking about."

I pouted, "Hey! I'm an enemy too! And you still talked to me without shooting _one_ ecto-blast. Plus, they won't attack you if we are just going to have some death-day fun! Every ghost loves a good party, come on, it'll be fun kid!"

Phantom's depression was suffocating, but I could feel it begin to reduce, and he actually smiled. A real, _genuine_ smile, I felt my excitement grow as the oppressive emotion weekend.

The ghost kid grinned at me with a tiny bit of mischief glinting in his eyes. "Yeah…you know what? I think I will…"

I, the all-powerful Box Ghost just convinced Danny Phantom to go on a 'night on the town' with me. The guys back home will never believe it!

An incessant beeping interrupted my excitement. I looked around and barley ducked in time when I silver boomerang flashed by me. I heard a loud "OW!" and looked up to see Phantom rubbing the back of his head and clutching the device.

I found myself forced into a real dive and before I knew it the human made specter-speeder barley missed my head. It flashed around and came to an abrupt stop in front of the kid, the door swinging open and that annoying terrible-aim red head stuck her miserable face out. She didn't even glance at me, instead glaring daggers at her brother. "Where have you been?" she barked.

I felt a pang of sympathy for the kid when he winced, "Nowhere Jazz, I've just been thinking is all."

The girl—Jazz shook her head sharply "Danny, I have been worried sick about you! You can't just disappear on us like that, right in the middle of school too! We thought you were hurt or something! You need to be more careful, mom and dad are out of there minds fretting over _you_. Can't you warn us whenever you want to leave unannounced like that?!"

The Phantom kid looked down with another sigh, and the depression that I just worked so hard to get rid of was creeping back into the air. Nobody destroys the hard work of the Box Ghost, especially the terrible-aim of a girl!

I swept forward and squared my shoulders with an air of importance. "Excuse me, but Phantom is obviously fine. You're not helping his mood any, I thought humans' celebrated death days, but here you are, yelling at him on his one-year anniversary. For shame."

The red-head blinked at me, and I could see her face twitch slightly. Oh no, she's not going to be laughing at me too, is she? "His…his what day?"

I folded my arms and frowned at her, it was the talk of the Ghost Zone, how could she not know? Phantom answered her for me though, "Jazz, one year ago today I got my powers. Boxy here calls it my death-day. And before you ask, we were having a very civil conversation before you decided to show up." Phantom folded his arms the same way I was, "Way to ruin the moment, sis."

The annoying girl looked between me and the kid, and she nodded at me slightly. "Okay…well Danny if you hadn't noticed I waited until ten to come find you, it's ten fifteen right now, and past your curfew, which means time to go home. Hurry up and finish with the Box Ghost and let's go." I saw her take out one of the infamous Fenton Thermos's and pass it to her brother.

I shivered a little on seeing the device backing away quickly, but not yet wanting to leave the area. Phantom grinned, but it didn't fit the slight feeling of annoyance I could taste coming off of him. "Yeah sure, you go ahead, I'll be home in a few minutes, you go on." Phantom made a dismissive gesture with his hands, and the red head glanced at me one more time before nodding and heading off in the same direction she came in.

As soon as she was gone, the kid's shoulders slumped and he turned to look at me. "Uh…that um, party idea was cool and all, but I really have to go."

I looked at him, deflated, there really wasn't any excitement left in me after his little conversation. With a sigh I spared a glance at his cylindrical prison of doom. "You going to put me in that then?"

Phantom smiled at me, and I realized that the depression I had first felt upon running into him was completely gone. "Nope."

I did a double take, my eyes widened and I stared at him slack-jawed. "Seriously?"

He nodded "Just don't get into to much trouble and make me regret my decision. And…how about a rain check for that idea you had? I…think I could use a night out. Saving the world really does have a tendency to ware me out, and I think what you suggested was just what the doctor ordered, Box Ghost."

I grinned hugely, feeling a slight swell of pride at what was accomplished. "Sure, we can do it some other night…Danny."

Phantom smiled and then abruptly took off after his departed sister. I sighed in relief, almost following him to continue my intended path to the Ghost Zone.

But I stopped, a slow grin forming on my face. Danny Phantom just left to go home and get some rest, and left me alone on the most unprotected north end of town. It may not be as fun as downtown Amity, but it would do for tonight.

Hey, just because Phantom had to go doesn't mean I have to. And, Phantom wasn't going to come back here anytime soon…warehouse district here I come!

Cackling madly, I sped off into the still young night.

* * *

**This little thing popped up in my head when I opened up word, so I wrote it out, and I like how it went. It may seem a little OOC in places, but I was just trying to 'capture the moment' so bear with me. Danny was feeling a little too much pressure from all of that ghost-fighting and literally carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, so I wrote him like this, I hope it suits your standards!**

**If you feel the need to comment, please do! I love feedback of any kind (flames included) so don't be afraid to leave behind a little message for me!**

**Catalyst**


	5. Daydream

**As you may already be able to tell, I've hit a writers block and am writing this to try and squeeze past it. This isn't very long, nor is it what you expect...Ugh, I can't say more without ruining it for you! I'll finish this A/N at the bottom.**

**Disclaimer: No, I don't own a gun. Please stop asking to borrow it or I'll shoot you...Oh, hi everyone! I meant...I don't own Danny Phantom! Yeeaahh, who said anything about a weapon? :nervous chuckle:**

* * *

Daydream

* * *

"Where…um…are we exactly?" The cold and shivering boy asked wonderingly, staring at the vast undergrowth all around.

"I told you not to speak!" An angry voice hissed in reply.

The boy cringed and held tighter to the object in his hands. "Oh…yeah, sorry."

"Insolent child." The man commented to himself.

The boy—or child—jumped in response, knocking a few carefully laid branches to the ground. "I'm not a child! I am a…a…uh…"

The man glowered at the fallen foliage, but finished the boys' sentence without reprimand. "A child."

"No! No, I am a...person with…rights and feelings and stuff." Pink cheeked and stubborn shot back.

"Obviously." Dry sarcasm was apparently how the man worked when speaking to this particular child.

"What do you mean by that?!" The boy—stomping his booted feet as if to warm them in the cold winter snow—glared bravely at the still veteran beside him.

Fighting a smile, the man carefully started to pick up the fallen branches and replace them to keep himself and the boy concealed. "Well, you definitely are a person, and you most certainly have _feelings_."

Automatically the young child went onto his knees and handed the branches up so they could be rearranged quicker. "Oh, thanks…hey!"

"Don't be so touchy about it, excessive emotion is unavoidable for a child to have." The cameo-clad man was busily shifting the branches into better angles, but it apparently didn't do much to break his concentration on the boy beneath.

Angry, the boy replied with as much venom a naive thirteen-year-old could muster, "I. Am. Not. A. Child."

"And as we just discussed, you've already proven yourself wrong." The man was smug in his answer.

"I am no child, I'm thirteen." The boy, looking at the still amused face of the elder continued heatedly, "_Teen_, as in legal teenager."

"You really need to brush up on your laws child; you won't become a legal anything until you're at _least_ sixteen. Well, with the exception of legally being a minor." As if to emphasize his point when he said the word _law_, the man lifted his rifle a bit and hefted it to his shoulder, the branches back in place.

"Not fair! How come adults get to do everything and kids get to do nothing!" The boy scrambled up and stood next to the man, lifting a seemingly too large gun to his own shoulder and pointing it out towards the empty clearing.

"One: child, not kid. You aren't a goat, don't act like it.

"Two: Children grow and learn to become adults. So wait your turn, or you'll regret your want to grow up so fast one day.

"Three: you have to be sixteen to get a hunting license here. So go back to being silent and happy you're along for the ride, I could just turn back and leave you with your mother if you keep acting your age. Toughen up, I don't teach my boys to become whiners, and I'll be damned if I start now. So quiet boy, and we can continue to hunt our prey."

"Yes father." The boy replied dutifully, making sure to seem as sorry as possible for possibly scaring off any deer with his mouth. Although, reminded of why he was sitting in the snow for the past two hours considerably brightened up his mood. Today was his first hunt, as his father had not decided to leave him behind!

The boy wistfully reflected back on what he was questing to do this very day, a plan that had been forming in his head since he first heard the stories. He wasn't intending to hunt deer, as his father was.

Today, if he could get close enough into his fathers good graces, then maybe he would be allowed to go off alone and hunt for what he _really_ wanted. Imagine, him returning to father with a rifle in one hand and the head of Bigfoot in the other!

He would be famous, his parents proud, and his friends jealous. Maybe he could be one of those heroes on cereal boxes! And who knows, why stop at Bigfoot? There are whole bunches of strange creatures out there, like the Loch Ness Monster, or yeti's, or thunderbirds, or even the Moth Man!

The boy smiled to himself in the bitterly cold clearing. He would be famous, and he even picked out a really cool name for himself when the day came for it.

"Let's go get 'um daddy." The boy whispered softly, watching as his _fathers_ prey walked unknowingly into the clearing they were hidden at.

The boy made sure to carefully tuck away the thought of his picture on the face of a news paper labeled 'The Skulker; World's Greatest Hunter' for a time when he could daydream over it, because now it was time to hunt.

* * *

**Alrighty, I was sick almost all week, it's some weird bug going around. That, and school has started (darn) so my updates may be a bit slower due to honors homework, I didn't think it would take me so long, but I was wrong. (And my mind is still rhyming every five words, thank-you Edgar Allan Poe! Or was it someone else? I forget.) **

**Okay, can you guess who that was? Now what I should be hearing is an obvious 'Yes' from all of my smart readers. I doubt anyone of you missed it. So, I know it was short (couldn't seem to make it longer), but what did you think of it?**

**Fell free to leave any kind of comment, or even alert, would make my day considerably brighter! Have a wonderful, phan-filled day everyong, and don't forget to break out into random dance sequences!**

**Catalyst**


	6. Ouch

**Hey everyone! Only been one day and I'm updating again! Now if only I could do that for _Falling Through Paradoxes_...stupid writers block...**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom. I would like to, I could even handle the process of getting out new episodes. But the thing is, I'm not sure if I could handle all those crazy Phans...myself included.**

* * *

Danny spun around in a complete circle, shooting as he went. He flew higher, trying to gain some ground against the seemingly endless tide of goons attacking him.

Danny only got a glimpse of his surroundings before he was once more swallowed up by the wall of glowing enemies. But it was enough for him to spot a tiny island floating by in the empty expanse of nothingness that dominated this section of the Ghost Zone.

Panting, Danny blasted a tunnel of ecto-ice in the general direction of that small plot of land. Taking no time to examine his work, he dove through it and came out only feet away from his goal; the guards were already on him.

Kicking and fighting, Danny made it to the island and braced himself on it, the thing was small and didn't offer much protection, but at least he wasn't being attacked from below anymore. And the solid ground could offer more traction for his feet.

Danny looked up, noting the absence of his attackers. They all stayed in a three feet circle around his position, covering the sides, and above. Danny had no doubt that there were some below just in case he somehow managed to try and escape that way.

"Like your prison, Punk?" Danny didn't respond to Walker's scratchy accent, instead preferring to stay still and wait for the right moment, acting more tired then he was, he hung his head and glared at the ground.

He heard Walker laugh from behind his force. "You should be getting used to prisons, seeing as that's going to be your home for a long, long time." Still Danny didn't answer.

Danny listened carefully, and out of the corner of his eye he spotted a shift of movement in the guards. Confident that he had found where Walker was hiding at, Danny twisted around suddenly, and taking a deep breath, unleashed his ghostly wail.

He poured all of his power into it, doing a 360 degree slow spin to get all of his targets. Granted, some made it out of the way in time, but Danny just needed a distraction that would last long enough to get him _out_ of there.

As soon as he let the power fade, Danny took off in a random direction as fast as he could. A group of about ten guards—including Bullet—gave chase.

In retrospect, maybe it wasn't the greatest idea to do that on a ghost island. The guards underneath it where prepared for just what he did. And Danny had used up too much power to effectively fight them off.

He could try flying at his top speed, but he would just run out of energy before he made it to the portal, and the guards would catch up to him then. He could _not_ go his top speed and then have to stop and fight them off…but again, his energy levels were too low.

Danny looked around, seeking a landmark that could lead him to a friend willing to give him a helping hand. Even Skulker would do for now, although getting away from him when they were done tearing up Walkers guards would prove to be problematic.

Danny shook away the last thought; it didn't matter anyway, as he could see nothing recognizable in the swirling green of the Ghost Zone. But there _were_ a few doors, Danny knew the consequence of accidentally stumbling into a ghost lair; but he decided that he was desperate enough to take the chance and rocketed towards an arched doorway that greatly resembled Chinese agriculture.

Crossing his fingers, he stumbled through the door.

And fell onto soft, merciful, _human_ ground. Danny almost cried out in happiness and hugged the earth with a contented sigh.

Before letting his guard down, Danny spared a glance at the place where a doorway should be. He was greeted with the sight of giant trees and a serene birdcall in the distance. No portal. It had, apparently, closed behind him and left the crazy idiots who attacked him well in the Ghost Zone.

Danny sucked in a happy breath, and stretched out his tired limbs. He flinched. "Ow." Danny looked at his soiled uniform and cut up torso, feeling the bruises underneath his hazmat suit. Walker had really done some damage this time—well, his lackeys had, Walker didn't seem to be much of a solider when he had others to follow his orders instead.

Danny attempted to get up and better access the damage, but when he braced his arms on the ground and pushed up, they gave out from sheer exhaustion. Feeling his head slam into the ground, the last thing Danny thought before he went under was that he must have lost more energy then he originally felt.

* * *

Danny came around with a pounding headache. His arm flew out to clutch his head, but it didn't get far enough to bend, and when he tried, Danny was met with a jolt of pain that extended from his arm and seemed to spread to his back. Hissing, Danny dropped his arm back down and opened his eyes.

He saw a yellow tilted ceiling that flickered a little when Danny tried to concentrate on it. Confused, he blinked a few times, and it dawned on him that it was not the ceiling flickering, but the light hitting it.

"Shh, do not strain yourself, stranger. You have been injured greatly, and it is a miracle that you are still among the living. The spirits must smile upon you." Danny blinked a few times, his eyes wandering around the room "Here, drink some tea."

Danny's eyes met an old, wise face marked with both laugh and worry lines aplenty, and a wide grin. The old man with graying hair offered a small tea cup to him. Danny frowned, but tried to move his arm to intercept, and was met by another stab of pain. He gasped.

The mans smile dropped and he put a hand on Danny's chest, as if to keep him down. Danny groaned and looked away. "There now, don't try to move. I need to lift you up a bit and get this healing medicine into you, try to bear with me and the pain will be numbed momentarily."

Danny clamped his mouth shut at the word 'medicine' he had no clue who this stranger was, and there was no way he was going to drink some unknown _medicine_, no matter what it might do for his pain. Danny recognized that he had lost his ghost form, and wondered if that was the reason he was feeling the burn now and wasn't feeling too much of it before he passed out.

The old man didn't seem to see the gesture, or take note of Danny's preoccupation with his thoughts, and tried to work Danny into a somewhat upright position. Danny was unable to stop the yelp when his back exploded into fire.

But the man, although old, was firm and would not drop him. He managed to maneuver Danny's head onto his knee and brought a hand to Danny's mouth.

Danny resisted, closing his eyes and scrunching up his nose to go along with the locked jaw. His expression no doubt saying 'no' to the grandfatherly elder.

It soon became obvious to Danny that he didn't have a choice, as at that moment, another flash of searing pain flashed over his back and Danny cried out. Giving the old man the chance to pour the medicine into Danny's mouth, and caught mid-scream, he had no other option but to swallow in order to avoid chocking.

Danny coughed a bit after it went down, feeling a lingering drop in his throat. The man smiled at Danny's look of distaste, and said something about it not being so bad or whatever.

Danny wasn't listening, because for the first time, he noticed the clothing that covered the man. They weren't _normal_ clothes. They were…old. Either this guy liked his heritage…or he was in _real_ trouble.

The past, that door must have lead into ancient China, because these were definitely not modern day wear. A green robe-like garment adorned the elders' torso, and he had green leggings, and hints of a green top underneath the robe/cloak thing. _Crap_.

_Crap._ He walked into a portal and let it close behind him without any clue as to how to find another and return to the Ghost Zone. _Crap_. Danny could—very easily—mess up the time stream as we know it and go back to his own time without ever existing. _Crap_. Clockwork was going to _kill_ him if he messed anything up. _Crap_.

And to top it off, Danny couldn't move, even with faster healing—courtesy of his ghost powers—it would take _at least_ a week before he could get up and move again, not to mention find a portal. _Crap_.

Danny groaned and lifted his head a bit as if to slam it onto the ground. It looked more like a week nod, but he didn't care. He was so _screwed_.

Danny's neck hit against the elder's knee and he cried out as fire exploded down his back again, but the pain didn't last as long nor did it hurt as much. Danny sighed in relief, he was healing already. Maybe he would be able to get out of here fast enough that his presence wouldn't mess anything up.

Golden eyes took on a gleam of delight "Good. The tea is setting in already. You should be feeling all of the confusion leave your mind and the pain become a numbing ache. I have another that will put you to sleep, but I thought you might be up for a little talk before you drink it."

Danny blinked. Then it hit him, _damn it_, he thought angrily. It wasn't his healing powers, it was the tea. Danny glowered for a moment, but his mind really was clearing, and he might not have much time to get his bearings.

Danny scanned every inch of the walls around him—which turned out to be a large yellow tent—and noted a tiny fire that was giving off a majority of the light. Wait, a fire _inside_ the tent? Pushing the question aside for later, he noted a small tea kettle with two cups, and a pile of material in the corner. Other then that, the tent seemed pretty empty.

Danny turned to assess the damage on his own person, feeling painful stings from almost every inch of his body, but they were slowly dulling—probably due to the tea, which he really needed to get a copy for that recipe considering how quickly and efficiently it was working—his arm was in a splint, Danny guessed that he had shattered something, and telling by the burn, his elbow. Maybe he cracked his shoulder as well.

Other then multiple bruises he could feel along his legs, they were fine. Thank God. But the most pain seemed to be centering on his back. Danny could vaguely remember the sensation of something slamming into it quite a few times—most likely one of the guards battering stick things—with his main injuries found, Danny began to pull a focus onto his back, head, and right shoulder blade to be fixed first. His head didn't hurt as much, but Danny wanted to avoid a concussion at all costs.

Danny couldn't do much by the way of internal injuries. He could only hope that nothing had a hole in it until he could find more advanced medical help, like Jazz.

Only when finished did Danny bring his attention to the patiently waiting man beside him. Danny wondered why he was so quiet the entire time when the man said he wanted to talk.

As if seeing the question in Danny's eyes, he said, "You looked busy." Danny nodded, but winced in pain when a little jolt ran through him. At least he wasn't on fire anymore. He _really_ needed that recipe.

The man looked at Danny questioningly, and broke into a wide grin. Danny sighed. "Alright…what do you want?" He asked warily. Danny knew what it was like to be interrogated, and did not like the prospect that this curious man was most likely going to try and pry into his life.

The other's smile faltered, "What makes you believe I want something?"

Danny tried—hard—not to roll his eyes. He wasn't _that_ stupid. "Because, one, you picked a complete stranger off the road without any grantee of payment or that he was going to live. Two, you could have made that tea medicine thingy put me to sleep right away, but instead insisted that we 'talk'. And three, you won't stop _smiling_."

The man did something completely unexpected, he laughed. Or in Danny's experience, maybe it was _to_ be expected. He always had a tendency to attract the craziest fruitloops. Take Vlad for example. Fruitloop.

The man shook his head and settled down his laughter. "I picked you up on that road because if I were as injured as you, then I would want someone to pick me up and take me in as well.

"I didn't want to put you to sleep immediately because you were disoriented and might want to be asking _me_ some questions. Not the other way around, can't an old man help someone out without being interrogated for every action he takes? It would be nice to know _why_ you were beat up so bad—and why you chose such a strange outfit for traveling—but in times like this, I would not blame you for wanting to keep it from me. I have no intention of making you tell me anything you do not want to.

The man laughed again, snapping out of the serious tone quickly. Danny was once more thinking the word 'fruitloop'. "And I had no idea that there was a new law against smiling and being hospitable."

Danny frowned. He made a valid point. But this also brought a nagging thought to the back of his mind. Something was off with this setting. Danny took another look around the room—tent, but it didn't appear to be anything inside…still.

The man looked around as well, "What are we looking for?" He whispered, Danny jumped, his heightened senses hearing the whisper as a yell. He quickly toned down his hearing to a human frequency in order to comfortably listen to the man's words.

"I'm not sure," Danny replied just as softly, "It's just…something feels wrong, off. Like I'm missing something. Do you know what I mean?"

The man nodded, "We should keep our guard up if you feel that way. Sometimes the spirits like to warn us in ways like this if something is about to happen."

Danny frowned absently, not bothering to comment on how wrong this mans beliefs could be, the ghosts he knew definitely never cared to warn humans about anything. But spirits could be different, a small piece of his mind contradicted, maybe spirits were a benevolent race of ghosts that helped the ancient Chinese. You never knew.

Danny sighed, and shifted his head a little, reminded of how much trouble he would be in if he messed up the timeline, realizing that this stranger could be a very important piece of history and he could be right now causing a butterfly effect that turned men into moths or something.

The man lifted Danny's head onto a pillow, and Danny sighed contentedly feeling himself sink into the softness of it. He should think about it later, right now he needed rest. The old man lifted another tea cup and brought it to Danny's mouth, muttering the he needed rest and they could talk later.

Danny felt his mind begin to drift, but he fought to stay awake. "By the way…" Danny trailed, "I'm Danny."

The old man smiled at him. "You can call me Iroh." And Danny fell asleep.

* * *

**Yes! I did it! I caved and wrote a crossover fic! Just to let you know, I don't own Avatar: The Last Airbender either. And the setting was sometime before Toph meets Iroh when she was 'taking a break' from the team, and during the time when Iroh was following Zuko. If you have no clue what I'm talking about, send me a PM or review and I'll explain it.**

**I haven't seen much avatar beyond the first season, half of the second, bits and pieces of the third and the first half of Sozin's Comet, and the first half of the Boiling Pot. XD, I liked the show though.**

**Did you notice that the thing that was 'off' to Danny was that if Danny were in ancient China he wouldn't be able to understand a word anyone was saying? XD, He'll figure that out later, or in your imaginations. The farthest this thing is going is 'two-shot' and I don't really think I'm going to do that...unless you want to adopt it. And that is _if _I permit you to.**

**This little thing just wouldn't leave my head...it gave me no choice. Sorry if I got some facts wrong, I already told you I haven't seen every episode. Have a great weekend!**

**Catalyst**


	7. You know who?

**I don't know what it is, but my mind won't stop thinking 'crossover' so...I wrote this one. I dedicate this chapter to Shining Zephyr, who wrote the most amazing and uplifting PM in the history of my inbox! Thanks Shiny!  
**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom, nor do I own Harry Potter. But I do own the entire book series on hardcover copies!**

* * *

The elderly man knocked absently on the counter, examining the troublesome teen in front of him with a hard glare. He hated teenagers. "What business do you have pushing over items in my shop?" Herbert clipped sharply.

"I don't know…I just kind of, fell in." Of course, it was the typical teen response. He didn't have much patience for it today, same as every other day.

"How could you _not_ know?" He bit out sourly.

"I don't know."

Herbert groaned, patience was not one of his strong points. "You have amnesia or something kid?"

"I don't know." Blue eyes looked at him innocently. Herbert had seen the look before, and refused to fall for it.

"Did you get dropped on your head or something then?" Herbert leered at the boy, and fought a laugh at the teen's angered expression.

"No. I. Don't. Know."

Herbert huffed, and leaned forward and stared into the boys' eyes. It was his best intimidation stance, one that worked on even the biggest teen egos. "Then what the 'ell are you doing here?"

The kid didn't look impressed. "I told you. I don't know! I didn't mean to..." Idiot kid, Herbert thought indignantly.

He sighed, knowing that 'I don't know' was the most he was going to get out of him, he might as well scare the little 'un off. "Sure, kid. Now are you goanna buy something or what?"

"I don't know…" Herbert glared, and the boy glanced down at the ground.

Herbert contemplated, and then sucked in a deep breath. "If you aren't feeling the fancy to buy nothin' then get out of my shop!"

The kid jumped and started backing out quickly. But the idiot tripped over his own feet and fell onto his back with a resounding _thud_.

Herbert marched around the counter, and stood over the child with folded arms. "Well you little rat—"

"Herbert! Herbert! You need to see the paper Herbert! It just happened, oh God they weren't lying at all! Herbert!"

Herbert glanced at the door, and Tally rushed in, fanning a much abused _Daily Profit _over her head. "Herbert! You need to read this!" His reckless niece didn't see the boy on the floor until it was too late and she tripped over him, landing flat on her face.

By then he had run out of patience. He gripped the arm of his niece, and the arm of the nameless troublemaker, and ripped them up off the floor. "SILENCE!"

Tally, who had been apologizing repeatedly broke off and looked at him with fear. The nameless idiot boy was looking more and more confused by the second, as he himself was. But Herbert didn't show confusion; he showed anger.

"What is it girl?" Herbert glared at her, and tightened his grip a little on her arm.

Tally squeaked and tried to wrestle out of his grasp, but he would not let go. "I asked you a question!"

Herbert had lost all patience with his niece, and tightened his grip further on her arm, making its color change. The idiot seemed to snap out of his confused trance and shouted, "Let her go you're hurting her!" He too tried to worm his way out of Herbert's grasp, but to no avail. The teen glanced worriedly at Tally before settling back down again.

Tally, with tears in her eyes, stuttered violently and shouted out gibberish to his ears. Herbert's glare hardened "In English child!"

The teenager was the one to speak, "She said something about Potter and Dumbledore's stories being true and that a fudge saw him!"

It took a moment of silence to sink in…but the moment he could actually comprehend those words—those words all impossibly grouped together in the same sentence—Herbert let go, his anger melted into nothing. Shocked, he took a step backwards, "You…you don't mean to tell me that…they were telling the truth about You-Know-Who do you child?"

Tally nodded, "They were telling the truth and Fudge _saw_ him, it's all in this morning's paper, look!"

Herbert snatched the now slightly torn paper out of her hands, and read the bolded headline.

"**You-Know-Who Returns"**

The teenager looked curiously over his shoulder. "Who's that?" The boy pointed to the substitute for the name that must never be uttered.

Herbert stared into the boys' eyes, again shocked. "Don't tell me you're one of them kids who's parents never tell him for his own 'protection' are ye?"

Kid cocked his head to the side. "Uh…I guess?"

"Have they been restrictin' this here paper from you so you can't read it for these past months? An' I'll be guessin' you don't attend Hogwarts, I guess tha could explain yer accent an' why you aren't finishing up at school right now, as you should be."

The kid had his confused expression back on, "My family doesn't get the paper. And I...don't know where Hogwarts is."

Herbert met Tally's eyes before going back to the kids'. "Well boy it's quite the story. I'll tell it to ya if you want. But first, I have to read this article, if what they're telling us is true…" Herbert trailed off and lost himself in the article. Ignoring the obviously uneducated boy.

He could hear murmurs behind him, Tally talking to the boy no doubt. It was about where he was from and such, Herbert wasn't paying them much heed until a word caught his hearing. Herbert slammed the article aside, "Tally!"

She jumped and looked at Herbert apologetically. "That name is not to be said within my listening range, or anywhere else for that matter! What are you thinking? If he's really back, he can hear you!"

Tally nodded meekly, but the boy just looked more confused. "Why?"

Herbert snorted, "Because, in Diagon Alley, we'll be the first to be taken out by them death eaters for uttering his name out loud!"

Herbert could have sworn he heard the boy mutter under his breath '_So that's where I am._' But he shook it off to a trick of the wind raging by outside.

Herbert gestured to one of the few chairs in his shop, "Here, sit. I'll tell you the story of You-Know-Who. But you have to promise _never_ to say his name out loud, ever."

The teen nodded, and took the offered chair. Herbert pulled up his own, "Now, before I start, boy, what did those tight lipped parents of yours name ya?"

The teen met his eyes with a little anger—no doubt on the slight to his parents—and softly muttered a strained, "Danny." Herbert nodded. "Fenton." The boy finished.

Herbert listened to Tally's startled gasp behind him, but paid no mind to it as he launched into the tale of Voldemort.

* * *

"Danny Fenton."

Tally almost fell over her own feet and gasped. She looked at the blue-eyed boy while her uncle chatted on. He looked back curiously. She couldn't stop staring, and he eventually got sucked into her uncle's dramatic tale and put his full concentration on him.

Only Tally noticed the small widen in his eyes as her uncle mentioned the word wizard and pointed to one of the moving pictures of a death eater on the front page of the _profit_. As if that were the confirmation she was looking for, Tally dashed out of the room and into the attic, pulling out secret American Government files out from underneath her bed and placing them on top.

Her older brother, Maxwell, had always thought it funny to magically 'borrow' all kinds of secret government files from different countries. He had found this one, and thinking it a joke, gave it to her. Tally read it eagerly, but didn't actually believe it. How preposterous it was to think a ghost (a simple imprint of post consciousness) could be powerful enough to affect human matter—none the less be half-human itself.

Tally pulled out the file and re-read it. Her research on You-Know-Who being back could wait, it wasn't like it was about to leave the presses main interest soon anyway.

The file documented an event that happened months ago, when that asteroid was about to strike Earth and for some reason was immune to all attempts—magical and muggle—to destroy it.

Rumor around the wizarding world was that ghosts had come up with the solution, but no magical being was there to observe it, so the _Daily Profit_ had passed it off as a very powerful illusion spell to scare the entire world, to be miraculously saved after turning everyone and everything this see-through blue color and letting the asteroid pass harmlessly by them.

Amazingly enough, the theory was believed, because it was well known that ghosts simply weren't strong enough to do that. Tally believed it too, knowing that such a spell was possible if done by a very talented wizard.

But these reports told another story. One that made for a great fireside chat one day—and one that centered around a ghost named Danny Phantom, who was later discovered to be a half-ghost hybrid by the name of Danny Fenton, son of the Fenton Ghost Hunters, his parents.

The muggle version was much more interesting then the wizard version, and when Tally tried to investigate further, she found that the ministry had put blocks to whole bunches of research on the subject, like they were covering up.

Tally was unhappy with that, but when she read in the reports that the muggle's were also covering up the kids secret, she stashed the papers under her bed and decided to be content with what she already had in respect for what he did—like the entire world seemed to be doing.

How a ghost could be that powerful was still a good question, no matter how many there were, it still seemed impossible when she thought of the ghosts she had seen. But, that thought brought her back to the older boy sitting downstairs.

This had to make the stories true, for how else could a muggle stumble into Diagon Alley unless if he had the ability to move through solid objects such as large brick walls?

Thinking, Tally didn't fall asleep that until late that night. She could still hear her uncle and the muggle talking downstairs when she lost consciousness.

In Tally's experience, the strongest gratitude was expressed by action, not words. So Tally did what she did best.

Stayed quiet.

* * *

**Phew, these crossovers are tiring! But, they _do _make nice work of the writers block...and for those of you who were wondering, yes, I'm making the last chapter I wrote into a full-fledged fic by popular demand. But I am going to be a while, I want to write the entire thing out before I start posting so I don't get behind on updates. And it won't be titled 'Ouch' as the chapter is, I need to come up with a more sophisticated title for it.**

**XD, So, this is one of the many bunnies that wouldn't leave my head, a simple crossover that WILL NOT be continued. Just want to get that clear.**

**Any comments? Flames? Criticism? Fanmail? I'd be happy with whatever you got! Even reading it makes me happy, so thanks for reading!**

**Catalyst**


	8. Remember this day

**I couldn't leave 9/11 without a fic for contribution. My school didn't seem to remember its occurrence. So I will.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom, but I do remember the twin towers. May God rest those poor souls who didn't make it out in time.**

* * *

Remember

* * *

He coughed incessantly as smoke filled his ten-year-old lungs. He looked around, and there seemed to be people, moving, running, or frantically trying to call people and figure out what was going on all over the place. He didn't care. He was on the ninety-ninth floor of the building, and—last he heard—his mother was one story below talking to some important person.

The receptionist had told him that fifteen minutes ago. Ten minutes ago the building shook on its foundations and trembled. Seven minutes ago the room was filling with smoke. Five minutes ago he started having trouble breathing. Two minutes ago someone screamed about being informed of a plane crash. One minute ago his head began to spin from the lack of oxygen.

He tucked his feet in closer and huddled in the little cubby box that was the only shelter he could find. He was scared, the receptionist had been talking on the office phone constantly—trying to get help—and she'd been keeping everyone calm for the time being.

She looked distressed, and fear was evident in every movement she made. He watched as she paced away from the phone, helped a young man find something to cover his mouth with, walk back to the phone, stalk away and help a frantic woman, walk back to the phone, walk away, back and fourth, back and fourth.

It was soothing, in a way, to watch her move. He couldn't avert his eyes, but when she too, began to feel the smoke in her lungs, she still moved, helping. A minute passed and she marched back to the phone.

It took a while for the phone to connect and a while longer for her to get someone to talk to. He was the only one within hearing distance.

"When can you get us out of here?" The receptionist whispered hoarsely into the phone, "No, don't tell me to call back later! People are having trouble with the smoke, I don't think we'll be able to hold out for much longer."

He watched as she listened to the reply on the other line. The receptionist, who had simply looked haggard and desperate, perked up with sudden hope. "You're sending people in? Wonderful! When can they…"

He saw her face pale, and slow dread crept onto her features as what the other line said sunk in. "What do you mean that…that they can't—" the woman choked off her words with a sob. "No, no…I-I understand. If they can't access the upper stories…it's just, how am I supposed to-to tell _them_?"

The boy cocked his head, confused. The receptionist continued, tears leaking from her soot-streaked cheeks. "Please," she was begging now, "you can't just let us die."

_Die? _He thought fearfully. _Where they going to die? _He watched as the receptionist, still crying, finished her conversation and hung up the phone. She turned around, and faced the crowed of people still scrambling around frantically. In a high, clear voice, she said, "If I can have everyone's attention please." She stood on a chair, and it took only a minute for most of the shuffling to stop and people looked at her questioningly.

She took a shuddering breath. "I just got off of the phone with the fire department."

At those words all productivity stopped to listen to her news. "It has been confirmed," she took another deep breath—not that it did much with all of the smoke, "that a plane has crashed into the building." Murmurs broke out around the people. "Let me finish!" she cried, instantly there was silence.

She closed her eyes and braced her shoulders. Opening them, she met the eyes of her listeners. "The fire department is sending help into the building." Her tone was emotionless, and did not convey any hope in her words. "But, the plane has crashed below us, and there way to us has been cut off."

Here, a tear escaped her cheek in the stunned silence. "I'm sorry. There is little hope. Spend as much time as you can calling your loved ones, as it may be your last." Her statement was just that; a statement, no other feeling was conveyed in her speaking.

But the weight of her words settled like a hundred bricks on everyone's shoulders. And the boy sank deeper into his cubby hole. A sob broke the absolute quiet of the moment, and after that pure chaos ensued. People ran around in frenzy, yelling and knocking over things. He cried out his mothers name and put his head on his knees, rocking back and fourth, too scared and confused with what was going on to do anything.

He wanted his mother. He wanted her to comfort him, to explain to him that this was nothing, and that he was going to be okay.

But he didn't believe she would come. She was downstairs, one story below him. Untouchable.

The boy remembered back to this morning, when his mother was talking about why they had to come today.

_Flashback_

"_Mommy, why do I have to go to your work today?"_

_His mother smiled down at him. "Because sweetie today is your doctors' appointment. So we have to take you there and make sure that you are getting better."_

_He frowned in his ten-year-old confusion. "But why are we going to your work today?"_

_She laughed, like what he said was funny. "Your appointment isn't until ten honey. I have work to do today, just a few errands I promise. Then we can go to any fast food restaurant you want for breakfast. How does that sound?"_

_He perked up instantly. "Really?"_

_She nodded, "Really."_

_Grinning, he sat up straighter in the seat he was sitting in, watching the wonderful city pass by through the car window. Another question came to his mind then. "Mommy?" He asked._

"_Yes my precious child?"_

_He looked at her nervously. "Are they going to give me another treatment today?" His voice betrayed more fear then he wanted it to. He hated letting his mommy think he was afraid._

_She frowned, obvious worry coating her face. "You remember that place you talk about going to every time you get a treatment?"_

_He smiled, remembering his own world that he had made for himself to keep the pain off of his mind. "Yes mommy."_

_She tried to smile back, "Go there today for me honey."_

"_For you? How?" He asked curiously._

_She grinned at him, and took her hand to her purse, pulling out a small stuffed animal. With another hand she dug a pair of scissors out of her purse and cut a long lock of hair from her face. With that beautiful smile, she tied the hair around the neck of the stuffed animal._

"_Here." She said, handing it to him. "Take this with you to that dream place honey. Take him, and wherever he goes, I'll go. That way we'll be together. No matter what happens today."_

_He grinned. "I'll get all of my adult things done," she continued, "and then we'll go out for breakfast just before your appointment."_

_End flashback_

The small child looked up when he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was the receptionist kneeling down next to him. In her hand she held something. It was that same stuffed animal.

Eagerly, he snatched it out of her hands and smiled at it, hugging it to him in this time of need. The receptionists eyes glowed softly and she pulled him out of the cramped cubby into her arms.

He took the comfort readily, now noticing as the tears streaked down his face. The receptionist held onto him tightly, rocking them both back and fourth. "Are you okay?" She asked quietly.

He shook his head. "Mommy…"

The receptionist patted his head "I know, I know."

He sobbed, and in that moment of overwhelming emotion, he knew it. He knew he was going to die.

Without much care, he sunk deeper in the receptionists' arms. And she spent her last moments with him, comforting him.

But he spent his last moments in his own little world, playing as a cowboy with an attitude against adults (as he normally did have) and on his shoulder played a green parrot that had a lock of hair tied around its throat.

The building trembled one last time before giving out.

* * *

**Anyone guess who it was? Youngblood.  
**

**Please review, but (more importantly) remember this day, remember why we fight in Iraq. Remember the people who died September 11, 2001. And never forget what that moment of silence we get in school every day stands for.**

**Catalyst**


	9. Confused

**Hey everyone, sorry for the slow updates, but you see...I had this great bout of inspiration for Falling Through Paradoxes, and after I wrote the fifth chapter, the inspiration for chapter six ran away from me. This is a vain (yet entertaining) attempt to get it back. Please, enjoy. Oh, rated 'T' for minor language.**

**Disclaimer: "Your wish is my command..." :Ice cream appears: Yum! Oh wha-? Drat, wasted another wish. Oh well, still don't own Danny Phantom then.

* * *

**

Confused

* * *

The spiteful glare I give to everyone that walked passed me makes them shrink and take a step back. Good, they should fear me, they should all fear me. I am the king, and they're all subjects to my throne.

I admit, there is the occasional defiance to my standing title, such as that troublesome and bald educator who continually threatens to drop my grades below the passing 'C'. Not much I could do about him, as he was an authority figure, overweight and disrespected, but authority all the same.

Then the people who go against me that I do have some measure of control over. Such as that stupid annoying Goth chick, I would never hit a girl, but that doesn't mean I don't make sure she gets what she deserves. Paulina takes accurate care of her, from criticizing her clothing to going as far as to date her crush in order to make the looser jealous.

Speaking of loosers, here they come. Mickey and his friend…Nathan, or had he changed it to Lester? Not that I ever cared to learn their names for anything more then intimidation. What did they matter to me?

They were nothing, useless, dull _nerds_. I should pay them no mind. I always have. Or…do I? Do I truly hate every one of them? _No Baxter, shut up! Don't you dare go there again, you don't care!_

I shook my head, passing the two dweebs without a second glance, ignoring the sigh of relief I heard from them both. I never noticed them do that a few months ago, I never cared to step in their shoes, I had my world and they had theirs. It was social class, it was solid. It never changed.

Sure, under false pretences, it became slightly blurred, like the time Paulina allowed Fenton into our group. But we all new it wasn't permanent. Never has someone crossed from one side of the line to another after it solidified that first day of freshman year. No one. Ever.

_Liar_. A small piece of my mind hissed.

Immediately an answering thought growled; _Shut it. That was nothing. She doesn't matter._

I felt it coming up again, the raging battle that seemed to fill every moment I allowed my mind to wonder for the past few months. It was the reason my grades were up, the reason I'd been running harder and faster during football practice. The reason I actually listened to Paulina when she droned on about gossip and sales and other garbage. (Although that attention was a bit of help when Mother's Day came up, I knew exactly where every sale was. Not that I care about my mom or anything, that's what nerds do. I am not at their level.)

_Or are you?_

_Don't listen to it Baxter, shut off, turn away! Look, Lancer's coming by, do something!_

Without thinking my lips were moving, "Hey Mr. Lancer! Is your refrigerator running?" _Is your refrigerator running? Are you kidding me? You haven't used that one since sixth grade!_ Feeling like a complete and total idiot as I did so, a foolish grin split across my face.

Lancer, too, seemed a little shocked at what I said. But he recovered quickly, like most teachers do. "Hmm, no Mr. Baxter, I don't believe it is." He stared at me blankly, and my brain was too jumbled by now to formulate a response.

Nodding I walked on, reveling in the humiliation that was a small distraction from the turmoil inside of me. I could hold off until school ended, couldn't I?

My question was answered when I ran right into her in front of the cafeteria doors. I fell back, clutching my head and glancing up sharply. There she was, slightly off put by running into a jock but otherwise fine, the ghost of a smile still on her face.

She cast me a small annoyed glare, but otherwise continued into the lunchroom without even so much as a 'Watch where you're going!'

And that did it.

I turned heal and flat out _sprinted_ from the hallways, out the doors, off campus. It was the way she acted, so different from what she used to be, from what a popular kid was supposed to do.

No one else seemed baffled by this. But ever since that stupid, cursed day I've been trying to figure it out. I just couldn't understand, _why_ would anyone leave the shelter and safety of popularity?

I ran, not caring who saw me. I needed to sort out the confusion…get rid of it. Make it all stop.

I'm not sure why I went to the park, into the denser area of trees where I would be concealed. Maybe I was drawn there because the breeze weaving an infinite pattern in the leaves once soothed me, or because it was where I had my first kiss with Natalie Taylor, or…lots of reasons.

Panting slightly by my efforts (I had just run almost half a mile in what felt like a minute) I slipped down on the grass, using a tree trunk as a makeshift wall to keep me in a sitting position. I took in a breath, in and out, my chest heaving up and down.

Once I felt under control, I thought back to the mad rush that got me here. It was kind of stupid, to be honest. I had run from a _girl_, and she didn't even know I was running from her, what am I, a wimp?

_Pretty much, yeah._

With a loud groan I slammed my head on the tree, hissing as chips of bark dug into my scalp. Why on Earth was I so worked up over this, I don't understand! _But you need to._ The quiet voice in my head, the one that had been bringing up all of this conflict, the thing questioning every step I made. So annoying, who does it think it is anyway? _Your conscience, idiot, and if you don't quiet down and think right now I have no problems driving you insane._

I already am insane! I'm _talking_ to myself! There are two of me in my own head!

_Three._

What the Hell is the third one for?!

_I am your argument._

He_ is your idiot._

"Both of you _shut up_!" Did I just say that out loud? Oh God, did anyone hear me?

I peaked around the trunk, searching the area, but between the gaps in the trees there was no one. _Duh, Baxter, of course there's nobody here, it _is_ a Monday._

With a heavy sigh I relaxed. 'Okay, fine, what do you want?'

_For you to figure out the truth._

_I told him once, I'll tell him a million times. There. Is. No. Truth. To. Be. Had!_

'Quiet! The little one started speaking first, wait your turn.' I snapped, I'm not sure if I was handling this 'talk to myself' thing right, but, might as well. As long as after this they stop speaking to me. Wait, they will stop after this right?

_If you figure out the point of your worries then, yes, we will leave._

_I told you! It's nothing to worry about!_

'Hey would you be quiet? I said the little guy—'

_No, let me handle this_. _Tell me Denial, would you be here if he had no conflict to think over?_

…

_I thought so. Now, Dash, think, why are you here?_

'Because I'm going crazy and talking to myself?'

_Don't talk to either of us right now if it suits you, just think and we'll push you in the right direction when the need arises._

Now completely weirded out by the creepy voices—sure I heard a silent chuckle at that—I settled down to ponder.

If you ever looked at my English grades, you would understand that this was no easy task. I had no clue where to start.

After a few minutes of staring at nothing, a heavily reluctant voice rang through my skull; _Start on the day you kicked Valerie out of the 'A-list' crowd._

Okay, easy enough. Something happened with her dads' job, she lost everything. She sold her concert tickets online, we would have to sit next to loosers for that upcoming day.

After that, she was gone, not allowed near our group. A few weeks later, Paulina and Star were feeling sympathetic, they invited her to come shopping with them. It was a subtle invite to come back and re-join the 'in' crowd. There was no doubt Val knew what it meant.

She turned them down flat, I was there, and – like every one else – stood slack-jawed at her words. That night is when I started to doubt things, to notice the 'lesser people' around me.

I haven't beat anyone up in a week, claiming to my friends that I simply didn't feel like it, but I knew I'd have to soon, or else I'd loose my reputation.

It wasn't like I was taking an interest in Valerie (she's too rough on the guys for my taste) but more like everyone in general. Things used to be so _solid_, but she changed that. Instead of temporarily blurring the line, she crossed it. For good, as in no coming back.

I wondered over that for a moment. And then a little longer…still nothing. I wasn't going to have to call my insanity forward, was I?

'Hey, I found out the reason I'm confused. You can step in and tell me why this is affecting me anytime now.'

_You seemed to be having such an inspiration moment, we didn't want to interrupt._

_Or you're just lazy._

_Oh, you be silent. So, Dash, tell me, why does this confuse you?_

I wanted to slam my head on the ground, suppressing the urge I answered myself, 'I don't know! You're the ones who are supposed to answer that!'

_Mm, well, I don't remember agreeing to anything, you?_

_Nope._

I stood, my legs suddenly too restless to stay in one place. Pacing from one tree to another (in the denser foliage it wasn't much of distance) and fell into deeper thought, banishing the little voices from my head.

Unknowingly, my ideals played themselves out loud. "Okay Baxter think, she refused to come back…why I will never know. But I should know why I am going crazy over this.

"What would the obvious answer be?"

_That you like her._

I stopped short. Did I like – as in like _like_ – Valerie Gray? I reflected back on a few memories of her, the time she and Paulina were chatting about clothes, when I shunned her from the A-list, the time she promised violence to Kwan in order to get what she wanted…I shuddered.

No, no way in Hell.

_So that's obviously not the answer, what else you got Dash?_

I continued pacing, but my words started coming out messy and jumbled, so I decided to switch back to thinking instead of speaking aloud. 'I have no interest in Valerie Gray, I never liked her much even when she was a part of our group. So…maybe…'

_Go on._

'Maybe it has nothing to do with Valerie at all.'

_Then what does it have to do with Baxter? You already established that the reason of our problem_ – _'My _problem, not _ours_' –your_ problem was caused by Valerie refusing to return to popularity and acceptance._

'Yes but, it isn't about her. Maybe she was showing me something that caused me to worry.'

I stopped once more, I could feel it, so close, the answer to everything that was harming me. It was right on the tip of my tongue.

"What if it was me that I was worried about? What if because she had permanently crossed that invisible, yet solid, line that someone else could do the same, and in reverse? What if…" My voice teetered and broke. "What if someone replaced me?"

I knew it then, the main thing everyone was afraid they would never have: acceptance. I was frightened that someone could do what Valerie did, and switch sides of the line that seemed so perfectly stable. It was like a wall, no one could walk around it or through it. But she did, which meant _someone _could again, but in reverse. From the looser side to the popularity side.

I was worried about possibly being replaced and renounced, the opinion of my friends mattered that much to me. I cared about them all and held each one in high regard. Even at a time Valerie, but that was elementary school, before she got sour.

I would never suddenly hate my friends. And I had no idea if my best friends cared for me as much as I did them.

And that _terrified_ me.

…

The voices in my head dissipated like they'd never been there in the first place.

* * *

**Did I turn that into angst? Huh, guess I did.**

**I know it must have gotten a little confusing, what with all of the different thoughts and such. Just remember the _italics_ was the 'angel' on Dash's shoulder and the _italics, underline_ was the mini devil. Shamelessly inspired by The Emperors New Groove, I love those little bickering guys with the high voices on Krawnk's shoulders! (Did I spell his name right? It's been a while...)  
**

**Anyway, hope you enjoyed, review and nit-pick if you so Desiree! XD **

**May your day be filled with joy and peace nip at your heels on every path you choose!  
**

**Catalyst**


	10. The Masque of the Red Death

**Now, I realize that my last chapter was horribly OOC and definitely not my best work, so I decided to work hard and make up for that with this, which - I hope - far surpasses the last work. It is filled with angst, humor, and a good bit of Halloween spirit! Please, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom, Sponegebob, Halloween, or The Masque of the Red Death by Edgar Allan Poe. And I'm too frightened of crazed fans such as myself to own such things. XP  


* * *

**

The Masque of the Red Death

* * *

I can't believe I got Tucked into this…it was Halloween, 'All Hallows Eve' and I was stuck doing _this_?

A hollow dong rang through the makeshift mansion I was in. With a sigh, I got into a crouch for what felt like the millionth time. _Here they come._

Footsteps clacked into the 'hallway' and whispers pressed against my ears. They were simply magnified sounds, a feature Tucker added for the guests' scare entertainment. I became invisible in response to the noise, waiting for them to enter the main chambers.

It would be a while yet before they got here. Sam suggested they go through a series of 'getting scarier' rooms before they got to the grand finale: me.

The floor plan she and Jazz concocted made no sense, there were seven rooms. Each one placed in a random order, starting from the east to the west. For some reason it was important to them that every room was illuminated from the outside, with a gothic window flooding a certain color into the room.

The colors didn't even make sense; they were all too cheery for a Halloween atmosphere. A blue room first, scattered with little gold ornaments and a gothic plastic window tinted blue containing a fire lit outside of the room to give its only light.

The next five rooms were in a like structure, the only thing to change were a few decorations and color. After blue there was purple, then green, orange next, white then back to a deep violet.

After those six rooms, there was mine. It was different from the others, a large completely fake grandfather clock stood behind my invisible form, on the westernmost wall. There were two plastic red stained windows, but the room I was in happened to be black. The red cast an eerie glow on everything else. One could barley see the faint glimmer a small few of the painted gold trinkets gave off.

The color and set of the place scared me a little—and I was the one supposed to do the scaring.

A bell chimed from behind me, the clock's first signal that the group had left the blue room and were moving through a twisting hallway to the next. Their whisperings stopped completely until the bell finished ringing, all five _dongs_.

How every single group that walked through here knew to silence themselves whenever the clock chimed I don't know. But they did, and as soon as the bell stopped, the voices resumed, increasing in volume.

Four more times this happened, the bell adding one more dong to each new sequence, and the small crowed amassed in the violet room, they were cheering and jesting anew. Laughter clanged and pressed on my ears as the guests moved towards the hallway that would take them to their last stop, my room.

_Boom, Bang, Tisk, Ding, Dong, Boom, Bang, Tisk, Ding, Dong, Boom, Bang…_

The clock struck it's cords. All speaking stopped, as I knew it would. The only noise being that soft whisper of footsteps as the people tip-toed forward to their last destination.

I released my connection to gravity, flying up in only slight discomfort from the costume I was forced into. Just where the face of the clock reflected a bloody light, I hovered.

Easy as it was to hear the crowd enter, I could see absolutely nothing. My eyes were blindfolded and a black marker drawn over where they were supposed to be on a single fold of cloth. Sam claimed the glowing green of my eyes would change the atmosphere of the all red room, and be too familiar besides.

I still say that it sucks to be blindfolded.

Below me not a soul spoke, and an air of anticipation filled the room. It was up to me to judge when the time was right in order to set off the clock for its last twelve hits.

I waited, feeling the emotion roll around, and once the silence became unbearable to almost everyone in the room I grinned. _Almost_.

Then it came, the moment I was waiting for. Some person below took in a slightly deeper breath, about to speak. Immediately I pressed my hand behind me, setting off the clock.

_BOOM, BANG, TISK, DING, DONG, BOOM, BANG, TISK, DING, DONG, BOOM, BANG,_

I grinned wildly, finally dropping the cloak of invisibility that curled around my essence.

_BOOM!_

It was absolutely silent for a moment, no one dared to breathe.

But only for a moment, as a scream quickly ripped through the air, and another. Followed by a chorus of frightened yells. A stampede of feet pounded the ground, and they tried to run in the way they had come.

The shouts only increased in tempo as they realized that door was barred.

I slowly floated downwards. I knew I must look a sight, dressed in what a corpse might be, white linens reflecting a bloody cast. My face laboriously covered in makeup to resemble decaying features, skin hanging off of bone.

Somehow, the howling became louder when they saw what I was doing. People were pressing themselves against the walls, trying for the life of them to get out.

I was a good body's length from the ground when Tucker activated the second door to open. I could feel the air shudder as so many feet trampled the ground in the direction of their exit. I descended faster, but was still too late for any people to be in the room by the time I touched down.

Adrenaline is _fast_ when it wants to be.

I laughed, lifting the blindfold and peering around the room. My eyes lit up a cheery section in neon green. I glanced from the left and right, momentarily enjoying the way my eye's reflection followed wherever I searched.

I lit upon Tucker, who was strolling into the room, a handful of cash in his hands. He seemed to be enjoying re-counting the same amount of money over and over, as he went through the entire stack twice before he finally reached me.

"We done yet?" I asked eagerly, more then ready to take off the pile of tattered rags on my person.

"Yeah, it's almost midnight. And we made some good cash. Time to head home." I smiled at my best friend's response. A twinkle in my eye at the green that seemed to cover his pupils, looking remarkably like mine…

In a flash, the unnatural glow flittered out of his face. Tucker shook his head, and shot an angry glare at me, "Hey! Danny, that's cheating! We aren't done until there are no more people on that street."

I lifted my hands innocently, "It wasn't me, Tuck. Besides, like you said it _is_ almost twelve, I highly doubt there is anyone left out there to scare anyway. I feel like I've frightened just about everybody in Amity Park."

Tucker smiled greedily, "No, I don't believe we have, and as long as there is still money to be made, I'm not done here."

With a frustrated humph, I was just about to give a reply when—

_BOOM,_

"Danny, cut that out."

_BANG,_

"That isn't me."

_TISK,_

"Yeah, it is, you're using a duplicate."

_DING,_

"No, I'm not. I'll prove it."

_DONG,_

I transformed back into a human, "Could I do that with a duplicate, Tuck?"

_BOOM,_

Tucker's eyes widened, he knew I didn't have the energy to sustain a duplicate in human form.

_BANG,_

"Then who is—"

_TISK,_

"—doing that?"

_DING,_

"Do I look like I know?"

_DONG,_

"Did your ghost sense go off?"

_BOOM,_

"No…"

_BANG,_

"If it's Sam, I swear I will…" Tucker started weakly, trembling.

_BOOM!_

A figure, clothed completely in a shapeless red appeared in front of the clock. Even though the outfit seemed rudimentary compared to mine, it looked more _real_. A steady dropping of some red substance fell from the cloth.

_Blood_.

Tucker let out a girly scream and charged towards the exit, the figure swooped after him gracefully, and the door slammed shut just before Tucker could reach it. He turned around at the wall, quivering as the figure slowed and approached.

Mere inches away, it lifted up a clawed hand that was dripping grueling amounts of blood. Slowly, the hand rech back and held onto the red hood, Tucker pressed himself against the wall and covered his face.

The figure yanked back her hood and shouted in a scary tone, "It's the Hash-Slinging Slasher! Ooooh!"

Tucker stopped and looked up, still shaking a little in fear. Danielle and I simultaneously burst out into laughter.

"Nice one cus!" I shouted from my post, barley able to keep myself from falling on the ground for laughing so hard.

Tucker straightened, and glared at us both. "Not. Funny."

That just made us laugh harder, going on for a full five minutes before I was able to compose myself long enough to slow. Erupting in occasional giggles, I walked over to greet my 'cousin' phasing out of the linens as I did so in order to walk fully.

"Hey Danielle, thanks for stopping by. If you hadn't shown up I'm sure Tucker would keep me at it all night. Isn't that right Tuck?"

He grumbled for a moment, sulking, "No point in continuing now."

Dani and I smiled triumphantly. "Come on Danielle, you can crash at my place tonight in the OP center." Walking with her and passing a still steaming Tucker I searched for a button to open the door, with a shrug at not finding it I tried to phase through the temporary set up of metal.

My head met solid wall.

"Uh…Tuck, why is the door ghost-proof?"

He folded his arms, in a sourer mood then he should have been for such a simple trick. "I proofed the entire place to keep out any spectral intruders so Valerie could handle them and they wouldn't bother you."

I frowned, as small edge of worry tugged on my conscious, "Then where's the door-knob, or button or whatever?"

Tucker shook his head, a scowl growing on his face. "For this room I didn't have any, it was so our guests couldn't get out no matter how hard they tried until I opened the door, you can only get these open from the outside."

"So…" Danielle started.

"Looks like we're trapped." Tucker finished.

I stared, "Can't we call someone? Sam's still got to be right outside the door, if we pound hard enough…"

Tucker shook his head, "Sent everyone home an hour ago, they wanted sleep. It's probably what they're all doing right now. My cell- phone, and yours, is on the other side of that door. I'm pretty sure, with my parents out of town and your family just assuming you're out on patrol _and_ the fact it's a weekend, we'll be stuck in here until about lunch tomorrow before they start to worry."

"And…?" Danielle prompted.

"And they will start to look for us around dinner time tomorrow night at the soonest, maybe later." I finished.

"Oh." She said softly. After a moment of edgy silence, she grinned, dropping down on the ground and taking off the red cloak—bag that she was wearing. "So, who wants candy?"

Tucker and I just stared; even in this dim light it was impossible to miss her pour out a mountain of candy that ranged from small Tootsie Pops to King Size Butterfingers.

Suddenly staying the night in a creepy red-black room seemed a lot more fun than going home...

* * *

**For those of you who may not have noticed (most likely all who are yet to read the short story 'The Masque of the Red Death') the haunted house that was set up was meant to replicate that of the story written by Edgar Allan Poe, who is an amazing author/poet.**

**I highly recomend you read it, or 'The Telltale Heart' as that also is a fun angst peice...actually, I think every work of Poe's has some form of angst theme to it, so I recomend all of his work. XD**

**Anywho, I hope you enjoyed the silly humor and moments of angst. I love October, it's so perfect for fics like these! I was going to save this for Halloween itself, but decided against it. I'm going to post on one of the two days of the dead instead. (November 1st and 2nd) So, see you then, or sooner, as my writers juices are now flowing at full speed!**

**Have a joyous day and may peace nip at your heels in every journey you take!**

**Catalyst**


	11. Oops

Danny dropped down on the ground, dashing for the school doors as fast as possible with a sharp pain coursing through his right leg.

Ignoring the limp, he fretted over how he could so _not_ be late, it was PSAT day and if he didn't get into the classroom on time, he would be locked out. Not only that, but he would have to stay behind after school in order to do the three-hour long test.

That normally wouldn't matter, but Vlad intended to pay the family a little 'visit' after school and there was no way he was going to miss any hints at what the Frootloop could possibly be up to this time.

Seeing as Vlad was the one to hold him up in the first place only added to Danny's agitation.

The coward didn't even come personally, instead throwing a few incompitent vultures at him; they should have kept Danny occupied long enough to make the boy late.

_No way. Not this time._ He told himself harshly. Danny didn't even bother to fight, he simply put them in the thermos and flew as fast as he could towards Casper High._ Too bad those stupid things forced me to follow them onto the other side of town._ Danny reflected bitterly.

Tripping on the front steps, and catching himself easily, Danny swung a little too fast into an upright position. His backpack had had enough for one week, enduring too many fights without repairs, and the fabric chose this crucial moment to give up. The bottom fell out and things clatered to the concrete.

Danny madly picked up the strewn items and – leaving some behind – exploded into the hallway.

Lancer's class was only feet ahead when the bell tolled; signaling to the empty halls that anyone left in them was late. _No!_ Danny thought, yanking open the classroom door and stumbling in.

"I'm here!" He called, glancing at Lancer's back as the teacher wrote on a blackboard.

A collective mumbling started in the room Danny assumed they were again chiding him for his coming in after the bell. It _was_ beginning to be ridiculous—every day began to push _their_ limit. And that was saying something, as a student's tolerence for a fellow rebel could go far.

Danny payed no attention to it and scurried over to his seat, searching the few items he held for a pencil, calculator, and extra eraser. He refrained from cursing when he realized that his pencil was still outside, taunting him with its being so close and yet so far away. Sitting, Danny bet that if he leaned over, he would see it on the steps through the class window.

"Nice to see you join us, Mr. Fenton. Class, quiet down." Lancer stated - no longer bothering to glance at Danny - and scribbling a few more rules across the blackboard.

The noise grew in volume. Danny face-palmed, trying to ignore them in order to pay attention through his jumbled brain. He needed to be focused in order to get _some_ answers correct. And find another writing utensil.

Danny listened to his teacher sigh, "I said for you all to quiet down, it is a test day and I can—Paradise Lost!"

The teen looked up immediately, his head swiveling around for the ghost that must have set Lancer off.

He was a little surprised to see every eye trained on him, some with open shock, one with pure hatred, two with clear worry, and the rest in various stages of excitement.

"What?" He asked. Then he gasped, his voice…echoed a little…

_Oops…_


	12. Oops continued

**I decided to make a two-shot with the last chapter. It may seem slightly OOC in places, but I can't tell as I'm too high on the violence in here to notice. Heh, this was fun to write!**

**Disclaimer: Hmn, nope, can't say I do know where my socks went, so why would I own a show? It's not like I can keep as good track of it as my shoes—oh drat, where did they go this time? Here, shoesy shoesy shoesy!

* * *

**

Oops, continued

* * *

_Flashback_.

Two of the scant three teachers in the meeting laughed.

"What?" Lancer wondered.

"Oh come on," Mr. Felucia started, "You think it would be cool to have a ghost—no, not just any ghost, Danny Phantom—take the school exams? I admit you do have some good ideas sometimes Lancer, but this is not one of them."

"Why not?"

Mr. Berkley rolled his eyes, "Because he would never agree to it, that's why. It's a _test_ Lancer, no one likes to take them, and you think he would willingly come into your classroom, sit down, and take a three-hour exam? That's crazy."

Lancer frowned, "I think he might want to test his intellect."

"His intellect?" Berkley laughed, "What makes you think he wants to do that?"

"Well," Lancer said, "he hangs around the school a lot—"

"So he can be near people of his age—or the age he was when he died." Berkley interjected.

"And," Lancer continued, "Wouldn't he want to take it in order to show ghost hunters that he isn't some brainless blob of green like other ghosts that give him a bad name?"

"He's too busy fighting those other ghosts to care!" Berkley argued.

"Come on Lancer, that kid is a magnet for trouble, why would you want him in your classroom with all of the enemies he attracts? Better yet, what if he had to leave because of a problem somewhere else in the city? The test would be more annoyance to him than a help." Felucia added.

Lancer sighed, "We all agree that he's the good guy, right?" Felucia and Berkley nodded. "Than I say, if I ever get the chance, I'm going to offer him an opportunity to take the test."

"I don't think some of your students would like that." Felucia grumbled.

"Most of my class is pro-Phantom. I'm pretty sure the only ones who would object to it are Valerie Gray, Danny Fenton—who I highly doubt will make it in time—and perhaps Joey Lions, but that would only be because he's new here and is yet to realize that Phantom is a good guy."

"Sure, sure, I'd be careful of that Valerie though, she can be extremely stubborn. You won't be swaying her to let the kid stay there easily." Berkley paused, "Why are we discussing this? It's idle fantasy to believe that the ghost kid's would conveniently show up, and it's pure insanity to think he'd actually want to take the test."

Lancer sighed and leaned back, "Yeah, I guess your right. Just thought it could have been a massive step for research if one got to peek at his results."

_End flashback_.

* * *

"Oops."

The class seemed to blink as one, none of them (save for a select three) had recovered from the fact that Danny Phantom had just walked into their classroom, sat down, and was acting like…like a just-in-time-for-the-test student.

Danny blushed, and in that formal TV-superman tone that Sam despised he stated, "Uh…nothing here, sorry for the disturbance, citizens. I'll be going now."

Getting up, Danny puffed towards the door.

"No." He heard a very familiar voice say.

A startled "What?" came from over half the class, including Danny himself.

Lancer leafed through a thick packet, adorning a shaky teacher authority. "It is the test rules that once you enter this room there is no leaving until the test is finished, and since there are no specifications on ghost teenagers, that means you have to stay here too."

Danny cocked his head to the side, "Wait a second, are you saying…I have to take the test? Dude, that makes absolutely no sense. I don't even go here—heck, I'm not even _human_."

Lancer nervously stood his ground, "There aren't any rules that say you have to be human, and I never said you had to take the test." Lancer shrugged, "Of course you could simply ignore me and phase out, I would have no power to stop you. _But_, why not take the exam?"

"Huh?"

"What," Lancer asked, "You never tried to test your intellect? This could be a chance to prove to rogue ghost hunters that ghosts are more than, how did Mrs. Fenton put it? Ah yes, 'odd manifestations of post-human consciousness'."

Danny took a confused step back, but after a few seconds he cast a quick sidelong glance at Valerie, whose eye was twitching she was glaring so intensely. And suddenly the prospect of annoying the heck out of Valerie was too good of an offer. He refrained from laughing, not only would this show Val that he was capable of doing things outside of ghost fighting, but he would get an early look at the test questions before even taking it!

Although…this did seem a bit like the CAT tests, and the results of him cheating. _Oh come on,_ Danny counteracted, _they have a different secondary test for those who were late; this will simply give me the concept of what's going on, it'll be exactly like the study packet. Only this time I can irritate Valerie while I'm at it, and I'm sure a little indirect payback couldn't hurt. Besides, it's not like I can leave and come running in here as Fenton, I wouldn't be allowed to take the test._

With one sly look at Val, Danny beamed, "Alright, I'll give it a shot." There was a collective gasp (including one squeal) behind him, and Lancer grinned in accomplishment. "Under one condition." Danny finished.

"Hmm?"

"Don't tell any ghost hunters that I'm here or what I'm doing until _after_ the test." Danny allowed an amused smile drift across his face, "I'd like to keep my body intact, if you don't mind." Lancer nodded

Dash stood with sudden force, "You heard him, cell phones on the front desk!"

The teacher looked slightly annoyed, "I was going to do that." He mumbled under his breath, then louder, "Class! All electronic devices go on my desk, Mr. Foley,"—he nodded to Tucker—"will be in charge of making sure all of your electronic devices are removed."

Tucker spared Danny a worried glimpse, then tromped up to the front of the room and made sure that nobody had an extra communication device hidden away.

When there was a sizable stack of cell-pones littering the front desk, Mr. Lancer started up again, "Alright class, quiet down!" The mumbling stopped immediately as everyone stared at Danny, "Mr.…" Lancer paused courteously.

"Phantom." Danny supplied.

"Right, Mr. Phantom is a guest and is here for the soul purpose of taking this test. Do _not_ ridicule, ogle, or otherwise treat him as any more than an ordinary student." Danny was surprised at the easy words, _what, did he rehearse this? _The teen questioned.

"How can we treat him as normal if he's glowing?" Valerie snapped, rising from her chair. "You're letting some filthy ghost come in here and when he tries to leave, you have him stay behind for some stupid test?! You are putting us in danger, listening to his treachery, and asking us to treat him like a 'normal student'? He isn't _alive,_ Mr. Lancer! Don't treat him like it!"

Danny flinched at the 'not alive' comment, and was gong to reply when Dash – of all people – jumped to his rescue. "Hey! Watch it Valerie! He may be dead, but he is the coolest, bravest dead guy to ever exist! He's helped the town a lot more than any of us could count, and now he wants to take an exam – for what reason I can't hope to understand – and you're offending him!"

"What, you actually believe all of that garbage he uses to trick us? All those ghosts he 'fights' are accomplices to his ploy! And you're being stupid enough to fall for it!" Valerie growled back.

Danny snorted, "Oh yes, Skulker is definitely an 'ally'." He bit sarcastically.

"Who asked you?" She shot at him.

Danny rolled his eyes, "Oh I'm sorry, it's not like I was the topic of conversation or anything, how rude of me to interrupt your hate speech."

Valerie stomped toward him, a steely glint in her eye, "I don't care what you think _ghost_, I don't want you here. Go back to the Ghost Zone and leave this town alone!" Her words were accompanied by a sudden roar of response.

"Valerie what is wrong with you?"

"Of course _she_ doesn't want him here."

"I don't know guys, Valerie has a point, I can tolerate him, but why are we incorporating Danny Phantom into the school system? That's a little too far."

"Shut _up_ Joey!"

"Hey, leave him alone!"

"Danny Phantom has as much right as we do—if not more, he could be way older than all of us put together, we should let him stay!"

"Why are we arguing over this? If he wants to take the test, I see no problem."

"I say we call the Fentons!"

"I say whoever said that is an idiot!"

"Class, settle down!" Lancer called. The noise grew louder, and someone threw a pencil at Valerie (missing and hitting Paulina).

"Ow!" She cried.

With that, it was on. The class split in half, friends backing friends as a group settled for Valerie, the other for Danny. Valerie's group was smaller (about six people including herself, friends of Val's and Joey with Joey's allies), but they weren't intimidated, Nathan took the initiative and jumped onto a jocks back, scratching for the eyes.

Chaos ensued. Biting and hitting exploded from left to right, Lancer was screaming his head off but was not heard over the roar of the group, Danny, Tucker, Lancer, and Star retreated to the back corner. Sam was lost in the fray, taking apparent pleasure in kicking as many A-lister's she could get close to.

"Do something!" Star begged to deaf ears.

"Tucker!" Danny shouted, "Get Sam out of there!" With a nod, Tucker dove into the fray, taking only moments to drag back a kicking Sam, who had a death grip on Paulina's hair and was insisting on heaving the prep with her. "I was going to keep Sam out of this, but..." Danny whispered to himself, focusing his mind and energy.

Moments later all of the fighters took on a green glow, and they were flown far apart from one another in different segments of the room. Some still fought for a tad longer before they realized it was time to open their eyes.

It took a few minutes, nevertheless the noise eventually died down, and Lancer captured the attention of flailing students. "In all my years as teacher I have never witnessed such chaos! Look at yourselves, about each and every one of you are going to go home today with so many cut lips and black eyes that the school will spend decades rebuilding its reputation!"

Angered, Lancer glowered at the suspended students, "Mr. Phantom, release them. We will have a vote – without fighting – to see if Danny Phantom has the right to take a test. If majority rules him out, then I let him leave, if he gets voted to stay there will be no more complaints or fighting, _he stays_. Got it?" He spat the last line, making Danny absolutely sure that if Lancer had ghost abilities his eyes would be flaring a dangerous color.

There was a mumble of agreement and the class was lightly released to the ground. "First off, is anyone seriously injured?"

"I think I broke my nose, but that's nothing I haven't experienced on the field and haven't been able to continue on with." Frank mumbled, already stuffing Kleenex's up his nostrils.

"You're sure you'd be fine?" Lancer asked.

Frank shrugged with an easy grin, tipping his head back. "Feelin' better already."

"Anyone else? Serious injuries, not that you broke a nail." Paulina's hand went back down, and no one else felt the need to list their aches.

"Okay." Lancer finished. "Those in favor of Danny leaving, raise your hand." Valerie (with quite few visible bruises forming) raised a hand, as did Nathan, Tom, Mikey, Alex, Joey, and Sam. (Danny raised an eyebrow at Sam, but she cast a short glare to Paulina and than back at him, a slight frown tugging on her features. Danny scoffed.)

"Those in favor of him staying?" Over two thirds of the class raised their hands; Tucker even had it in him to whistle. "Majority rules," Lancer said, "He stays."

Gesturing to Danny's normal seat (Fenton's) Lancer handed the ghost hybrid a pencil. Without skipping a beat, Lancer returned to the giant rule packet. "Okay, the rules of the test are…"

Danny sat down again, somehow amused. _This…should be fun.

* * *

_**Haha, I couldn't help it! I wanted to make this a two-shot and couldn't help a little class violence! The scene popped up in my head and I tried to make it as IC as possible, but I really badly had to do it! Especially the Sam part (which I still can't decide if it was her character to do that or not).**

**I am so going to get yelled at for how OOC it was, but I don't care, because I am beyond glad I got this out of my system! Whoop for violence and attacking the preps just because you can!**

**Happy Steve Irwin Day! Treat animals (and of course, ghosts) with the respect they deserve!**

**~Catalyst**

**p.s. I have heard a few things inquiring if I'm finishing my other story, _Falling Through Paradoxes_, and the answer is yes I am. The thing is my computer--the one that has the written chapter on it--has crashed, courtesy of my little brother.. So while I wait to get it fixed in order to post what I write, you guys will have to wait too. I'm sorry for the inconvenience. If I must resort to it, I'll re-write the chapter as much as possible from memory, but I'm honestly trying to avoid doing so.  
**


	13. Techno Geist

**Hahaha, the idea came to me when I was updating FireFox. I collapsed into a fit of giggles and simply had to do this!

* * *

**

**Techno Geist

* * *

**

"Huh? What technology is this to have found itself in the hands of my awesome lair?"

Technus delicately picked up the small blue-etched cube. After a moments inspection he grinned, "No matter, I will use this item, and many others, to help me take over the world!"

Cackling, Technus set the tiny cube on a random desk, walking away. A low, mournful keen emanated from the little device, and Technus spun on the spot. As soon as his eyes found the cube once more, it stopped.

Frowning, Technus approached it cautiously. He crouched down and tenderly caressed the cube, warily waiting for something to happen. An odd, gurgling technological purr stemmed from the diminutive thing, its dull blue highlights brightening slightly.

Technus jumped back with a startled exclamation. In response, the cube clicked a few shy notes, in what Technus could swear was an apology mixed with a question. "I don't know." Technus answered slowly, hoping he had understood right, "My technology has never talked back before."

A sad triple beep came from the cube, and the lights dimmed to a flicker. "No, no, I'm sorry!" Technus said, feeling an odd panic at what he figured was the cube's form of being close to tears. "I was startled, that's all! I didn't mean to hurt your feelings I—what are you?" Technus wondered, the question coming out unbidden.

To his amazement, the cube flipped out a miniature panel of itself, and hair-thin rod extended out, tipped by some odd sphere. The circle at the end of the rod glowed blue, and projected a holographic image twice as large as Technus himself. Moving back quickly Technus watched as images flashed by too fast for him to identify.

They swirled and blurred together, eventually creating a tornado image around a much larger blue striked cube. Technus gasped as the cube morphed, somehow able to make itself shrink at a rapid rate to protect from the swarm of incomprehensible images converging upon it.

There was a blue flash of light as Technus distinctly saw a large mechanical hand reach for the cube, and it became far to bright to see. Before Technus could find it in him to cover his eyes, the cube was sitting innocently in front of him, chirping in its incomprehensible language; blue highlights flickering in an absentminded way.

Technus openly gaped, astonished beyond compare. The cube's blue glamour flickered and it hiccupped merrily.

"So you are a…?"

The cube flipped open another panel, and this time a much smaller hologram showed, displaying the words in a bright bold azul;

A VICTIM IN THE WAR OF AUTOBOTS AND DECEPTICONS.

"Oh." Technus said, perplexed.

The statement dissipated to be replaced by a much more sense-filled one;

I HAVE NO PLACE TO GO. MAY I STAY WITH YOU UNTIL IT IS SAFE TO VENTURE HOME?

"Um…" Technus started, gazing at it. "Will you help me in my goal to take over the world?" He asked eagerly.

There was a pause, then;

NO, I AM NUTERAL.

Technus stiffened, "Well then fine. I don't babysit cubes, no matter how smart they are if they will not help me." There was a high-pitched howl from the device, almost like it really was crying now, "Stop!" Technus commanded, slapping his hands over his ears.

The machine cooed sorrowfully, quieting. "I do know a miscreant who believes it his cosmic duty to protect victims." There was a hopeful beep from the cube.

Technus scowled, "You're going to owe me a lot for doing this infernal device, he doesn't like me and I will most likely come back here with many injuries decorating my form. I don't think it would even be worth the effort." The cube (which was previously glowing such a bright blue that you could barley make out the shape of it) immediately diffused.

Technus folded his arms, refusing to budge.

The cube flickered, then it let out a series of extremely low rumbles. Just as Technus attempted to ask what was going on, it stopped.

I HAVE UPDATED YOUR LABORATORY TO 3.0.4.

"There's such thing as 3.0.4?"

YES. NOW WILL YOU TAKE ME?

Awed, Technus, picked up his staff. Sure enough, the little screen underneath the top orb read 'Update 3.0.4 complete'.

Grinning Technus gently lifted the cube and hefted his staff, excited to see what it would do to help him against the ghost child when they were sure to meet later that day.

The cube tittered happily as Technus left his lair in search of the Fenton portal.

* * *

**Okay…0.o This was going to be Tucker messing with Technus by making him believe there was such thing as 3.0.4 updates and such, because Technus is always 'I am 2.0' or something of that sort. So when I saw FireFox updating to FireFox 3.0.4, I laughed and decided to write this.**

…**And somehow I came out as a crossover…with Transformers? I've honestly only seen the movie, and this confuses me to no end…**_**why**_** did I write a Transformers crossie? Great movie but I barley know anything about it.**

**Hmn, a mystery. Well, I hope you enjoyed, I'm going to be puzzling over this all week now. :shrug: At least it'll sap my boredom in math class. XD**

**Oh—one more thing, I called this 'Techno Geist' because techno geek, poltergeist, and it's Technus centric, get it? Get it? Hahaha! –cricket, cricket- …well, I thought it was funny…**

**~Catalyst**


	14. A Dead Man

**Updating! Oh, and for those of you waiting most patiently for _Falling Through Paradoxes_ to be updated, I finally have someone giving it to me as homework with a deadline. (Thank you spiritmind!) This way I will get it done instead of procrastinating like the idiot I am! Yay!**

**Okay...enjoy...**

**Oh, wait, the disclaimer! I do not own it. Now as to what I don't own, there are lots of things. I don't own Casper High, the Packers, Cheese Heads, Fentonworks, the cat Maddie, the person Maddie, Clockwork, my left shoe...ect.**

**A Dead Man by CatalystOfTheSoul**

* * *

"One two three four, one two three four, one two three four..."

"Ouch!"

"...three, Manson, we're following not leading," The instructor sang, dancing passed us, and continuing her numerical chant.

"Ahh!"

"Stop whining!" Sam hissed.

"Stop standing on my toes!" I shot back.

"Ladies, concentrate on the beat please."

I scowled, and attempted to continue the dance, only to find that my reluctant partner was, once again, unwilling to do so. Deciding that five times was enough, I pulled Sam aside. "You told me you wanted to take this class, remember? How are you going to learn anything if you're not even willing to follow the instructions?!"

She crossed her arms, and answered in a harsh whisper, "When I mentioned I wanted to take lessons I didn't think Jazz would send me off to you!"

"She didn't," I said coolly, "She sent you to Madame Rosmerta's class. I just happen to be the top one in here, and since you need to at least be able to move with a beat by next Thursday--"

Sam's eyes widened in surprise, and I immediately regretted my mistake at telling her, indirectly, that I knew. "I mean - well it wasn't going to help if I started with you at the normal rate or that would be too slow so..."

I trailed off, never in memory had I seen Samantha Manson look so furious. And I had seen a _lot_ of her angry side before.

She stormed off, out the door, not forgetting to slam it forcefully behind her. Madame Rosmerta looked at me questioningly; I shook my head and ran after her.

In the hallway I could see the back of Sam's bare foot disappear into the elevator. Thanking whatever divine spirit had given me such luck I raced in behind her. Wincing as my brand new heels dug painfully into my feet. "Sam." I said desperately, forcing myself to block her way out as she struggled to leave.

"Who told you?!" She spat fiercely.

I hesitated, "Well, Jazz told me to have you ready by next Thursday and--"

Sam fumed. "And what? Did she give you an invitation while she was at it?!"

"No." I lowered my eyes to avert her piercing gaze, only to notice that Sam was clutching her fists so hard that a small stem of blood was steadily dripping on the floor. "She told me when I should have you ready and I kind of figured out the rest on my own - honestly it wasn't all that hard to guess." I stared, transfixed, as another drop of crimson dotted the tiles.

Sam took a large, heaving breath, which I guessed did nothing to calm her, because there was no indication that her fingers were going to loosen up. "Who did you tell?"

Yup. By the way she ground out her words, she was most definitely still angry with me. "No one." Came my soft reply. I forced my eyes off of the still oozing blood flow, and met hers, trying with all my might to show as much sincerity as I could.

If it were possible, she looked even more angered by my words. "Oh _come on_, I know you Paulina. The moment you get a little piece of gossip you spread it all over every social circle you can find. And let's face it; this isn't just 'small town news'. I need you tell me how many of your other shallow friends are aware of--"

"I am not shallow!" I hissed, my temper rising to the bait Samantha Manson had always thrown at me in high school. "I am _not_ the girl you knew in Casper High anymore Sam. I've changed, I am a respectable anchor woman--"

"Who loves spreading gossip--"

"--who can keep a secret she promised not to tell a soul, living, dead, or creature of ectoplasm!"

"Oh, and who'd you make that promise out to Paulina, if it wasn't to someone else you _told_?" Sam drawled sarcastically.

I stomped my foot on the ground, as my councilor once told me to when I was about to lose my temper. "I made it to myself, and for your information I _keep_ those! You are the shallow one! You can't even see passed old grudges that were left behind years ago!"

"ME?" Sam cried indignantly, "Me?! Oh that's rich Miss America! You're the one who will do anything to get someone back - don't think I wasn't watching that broadcast where you completely humiliated your co-worker on live TV! How is that not shallow?!"

"Well at least I can let out my feelings!" I shouted back. "Don't you think I didn't see the way you had no objections to your boyfriend running off to fight in space without a helmet!"

Sam froze. The anger suddenly gone, and I realized that I had taken it too far. "No...no Sam, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that - I - I lost my temper, I didn't mean..."

She was crying. Oh my God she was _crying_. This, I had only seen once, and that was on the self-same day I had mentioned. I don't exactly know how it happened, but I hugged her. I was normally able to withstand tears, especially ones I caused, but this...to see _her_ cry...

It was awkward. I'll say that much. I've never held a woman in my arms before - except a maybe a short embrace with my mother. I found myself _shh_ing softly while rocking back and forth, a slow feeling of helplessness creeping over my senses. _How does someone react to this?_ "I...Paulina I'm..." Sam was trying, hard, to talk through her waterworks, apparently to say something important. I didn't want her explaining herself, as that might lead to more angered exchanges, so I continued my _shh_ing noise in a pitiful attempt to get her to not say anything.

It wasn't working. I felt her begin to slow her hysterical breaths, gaining enough control for passable speech. "Paulina..." She whispered hoarsely, and when I answered with a reluctant "Yes?" she bit her lip, looking up at me. "Paulina, I'm marrying a dead man."

This, of course, is what I had guessed she was taking lessons for. But that didn't make the shock of hearing it confirmed smaller. I promised myself, if ever I had to tell her I thought I knew what was going on, that I would say something along the lines of 'congrats' or 'wonderful'. But the way she put it made me want to tell her what I really thought. What she seemed to be begging me to say.

"Well, that's stupid of you." I told her bluntly. She nodded, relaxing her shoulders (and I hoped her hands) in the truth of it. "But I don't think it's wrong."

"What?" Sam snapped, her eyes sharpening.

I smiled in what I hoped would pass as innocence, "He was half-dead before that, and you loved him then, so what if you love him as much now? He's still around. He has strength beyond most ghosts - oh, don't look at me like I don't know anything about how ghosts are rated in power, I'm an anchor woman for Christ's sake - and he's cute. You have every right to live out the rest of your life with him like the rest of us dreamers would like to with whatever man we catch." Sam, confused at my acceptance, stepped away from me. I was more than happy to put my arms behind my back and keep them there.

"You...you don't think that it...it's _against nature_?" Sam whispered, seeming to wince with the last two words.

I shrugged. "No. And I don't think anyone else in this town will either - most all of us saw it, you know, we were all gathered, watching the fight in the sky. It wasn't right, that much was obvious, and I can assure you I'd stand behind it all the way if it ever became public."

Sam shrank back, "He doesn't want it to be a secret, after we're married." She admitted, a small tear streaking down a wet cheek. "But," and now her voice cracked threateningly, and I braced myself for a fresh outbreak of crying, "who would respect _him_ after that? I don't care if everyone thinks I'm crazy, but if they started ridiculing him...he says he doesn't care, but I've seen what happens when he loses his self-esteem..."

Sam left the sentence hanging, and I bit back my sudden desire to ask. What happened when Danny wasn't feeling on top of his game was none of my business. Although, the large portion of my being that influenced most of my life was pure curiosity, so I must admit that folding my arms in question was exactly what I did. Not that she noticed.

"I never saw him falling." Sam piped up suddenly. "I was too busy watching the lights flash across the sky to realize..." Sam swallowed heavily, "To spot something detach from the black speck shooting off a mass of green energy. I was worried about the blasts coming in from three directions...but I heard it. I heard it when his human body hit the ground. And you know what I did?" Sam was trembling fiercely now, "I _ignored_ the sound, Paulina. Even Danny felt it happen, I saw him falter in his fight when his body left him, but he was too busy with Vlad..."

I tilted my head to the side, but Sam covered her mouth, unable to go on, and slid to the floor. "I'm marrying a dead man..." She repeated.

I let her sit there for a moment, whispering those five words to herself. Vaguely I wondered if anyone was going to need the elevator and we would start moving up or down at any time - seeing as neither of us had pushed a button. At the end of five minutes I had had enough. With a huff I seated myself Indian-style in front of Sam, yanked her hands into mine and glared until Sam looked at my eyes.

"You. Are. Marrying. A. Hero." I stated flatly. "Stop saying he's a 'dead man' because anyone that can still walk and talk and love at the level he does is very much _alive_, and the public be damned if they say otherwise."

Sam seemed appalled at my words, but I ignored her intent to speak. "You are a very strong and independent woman Sam, you always have been. So stop crying about everything and start acting like a normal person for once in your life - no, don't look at me like that, it's not like I'm telling you to become a robot - just be _excited_ about your wedding, stress over little dress details, show off that ring he gave you! (You've got it tucked away somewhere don't you?!)

I stood, pulling her up with me. Sam looked at me with an odd mixture of wonder, relief, and worry. "How d-do you ex-expect me to do that?" She stuttered out.

I patted her back in an awkward gesture of companionship. "Well...first we need to get you some different clothes, you've got those all blood stained and wet, and then..." I smiled with a little malicious intent, "We are going shopping."

* * *

**:evil laugh: I was asked to put this journal entry on here...I swear I was only rambling to get rid of some uneasy butterflies for a Drama Team audition at my church. Haha, I hope no one hates me for putting Paulina in a nice veiw...she'd deserve it, ya know, if she ever cleaned up her act it is very possible for her personality to be like this. So go ahead, make my day. :holds up spear challengingly:**

**Love to you all!  
****~Catalyst**

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	15. Ten

**I think Shining Zephyr did this once, ten songs, and you had to write all during that song, and stop when the song did. I don't know, it might have been Cordria.**

**Either way, I decided to do it. Ten songs, ten little clips. The theme is that they're all DP related. XD Enjoy…

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**

Me Against the World, by Superchick

Glowing green eyes flared in the darkness. _How dare they?_ I thought furiously. _How dare they?_

I've been called a lot of things—few of which were good. But _this_?!

They've crossed the line. _How dare they?!_

With a roar of furry, I flew out of my darkened home, leaving behind many exploded pieces of technology.

I would teach them.

--

In between, by Linkin Park

This wasn't the right. "I'm so sorry."

"For what?" She asked, confused.

Tears sparked in my eyes, I wasn't sure how to say it. "Well, mam, I got caught up in between a few things…I was so busy and I didn't notice until…until…"

The dread that had spread across her face stopped any words from leaving my throat. The speech I had prepared died. There was noting I could say, nothing could soften the blow.

Wordlessly, I held out his red barrette. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Foley."

--

Dedicated, by Linkin Park

I watched as the city slowly woke up, sirens already sounding in the distance. Some petty crime was happening once more.

I didn't move to help, I had resigned that post long ago. I protected very few things nowadays.

Crime happened all the time now, but it didn't matter. I protected this and only this. They needed me more then the cops did. They had enough crimes against them.

I watched as the bell rang below me, and children filed into the last standing elementary school. I would stay, and protect what was left of the innocent.

Quietly, I returned to the roof, smiling to any child that waved up at my shimmering form.

--

Forgotten, Linkin Park

I didn't care anymore. What did it matter, anyway?

It was so dark, the world was empty. I no longer had a reason to fight.

Everyone was long gone, long dead. There was no point. The sun rose to a burning world.

I tried, when it still mattered, to stop them. All of my negotiations ended in them trying to use me as a weapon. And look at what they did to themselves.

An entire world, in ruins. They set off every nuclear missile they could. I couldn't stop them all. Not one thing survived.

Nothing but me.

I'm waiting, waiting until I die…I have for years now, but death is yet to come. I long so badly to go to them, my family…

But I know death will never come, and I will never see them.

--

Far Away, by Linkin Park

_I'm too weak…no, stop…_

_Stop! You're…OW! STOP! STOP I'M STILL HERE! LET ME OUT!_

_No! No, don't do that…don't cut my body open! Agh! Stop, what are you doing?! My heart, my heart…put it back, please!_

_No! It doesn't belong on a tray! Can't you see? Hello?! I'm still here!_

--

Swing, Swing, by All American Rejects

They walk by, one by one, fast, slow, whatever. They're all so bright, so fascinating.

I should go back, really. Sam's been waiting for me for a few minutes now…

They walk by, one by one, fast, slow, so bright.

I could go back, really. Sam's been waiting for me for a few months now…

They walk by, one by one, fast, slow, fascinating.

I might go back. Sam's been waiting for a few years now…

They walk by, one by one, so fast, so slow, so many.

But I don't really want to go back.

--

Because of You, by Kelly Clarkson

_"So how often does this happen?"_

_"About every day or so."_

_"And would you say this without our serum?"_

_"No."_

_"Are you afraid to?"_

_"Yes."_

_"And your parents have attacked you?"_

_"Very often, yes."_

_"Would you say they like it?"_

_[_subject laughs_] "Well, _duh_."_

"Pause the tape, Albert."

"So?"

"We need to get that kid out of there, this is obviously a severe case of child abuse."

--

I Belong To You, by Superchic[k]

I smiled warmly at him. How lucky I was.

He's never let me down, he's always been there when I've asked.

Of course, he's sees my smile as malevolent, but who ever said life was perfect? I had a son (who would never believe I if I said it) that always came at my call. Always ended up doing exactly as I wanted him to.

He makes me think, and he's so obedient. I can always get my tasks done with him around.

I wonder if he realizes that if ever asked a task of me, I would do it?

--

Crawling, by Linkin Park

Just underneath the surface. Always.

It was there. That potential.

I've seen it, of course. And what a horrible nightmare that was. After that, I never even considered letting it out again.

But now? Now…it was right there, jumping at my fingertips, waiting, forcing, to be unleashed. At this point in time, I don't think I should complain. If I use it, I can survive. My wounds would heal, and I would defeat him once and for all.

I took a deep breath, remembering that reality I had seen at fourteen. Gritting my teeth, I embraced the pain, the deadly wounds.

_I would rather die._

--

Bad Day, by Daniel Powter

Grinning, he splashed into the mud. "Danny!" I cried in mock anger, laughing.

The little boy looked up innocently at me, holding up a small handful of mud as a peace offering.

I smiled down at him, shaking my head, "Make a mud pie and let it dry first, sweetie. Do you want mommy to get her hands all dirty?"

Frowning, Danny dropped the mud, then, with a sudden vigor began to pile mud onto itself, looking up hopefully at the clouds, as if willing the sun to come out the second he finished.

* * *

**There you have it, folks. Boredom at it's best! ^^**

**~Catalyst**


	16. Veni, vidi, vici!

**:waves enthusiastically: Hi everyone! Now, you know, same old, same old. I present a oney, and you (hopefully XP) read a roller-coastery blast with it, hope you do too! **

**Enjoy, dear ones!**

**...Oh wait, disclaimer (because they are such a joy to write): I went to World Market yesterday, and asked if I could buy ownership of Danny Phantom. They gave me a weird look and said, "No, we don't have that here." So I asked if I could buy some Pocky. The woman nodded and showed me where the Pocky was. After I got my Pocky, I asked if I could buy the world. She said, "I'm sorry, we're out of those, would you like a small piece of it instead?" I shrugged and said yes. XD I'm keeping my handful of dirt an a special place now, because, after all, I got a piece of the world at World Market.**

**

* * *

**

**Veni, vidi, vici!  
**

"Sanchez?"

Paulina blinked, looking up from the note she had received. "Wha—oh, uh, here."

"Baxter?"

"I'm right in front of you, why are you asking—"

"Sullivan?"

"Here, sir!" Mikey replied with an enthusiasm no one else had.

"Manson?"

"Unfortunately, here." She drawled in a bored tone, doodling.

"Foley?"

"Mmm." Tucker replied, paying more attention to Sam's artwork than Mr. Lancer's roll call.

Lancer tapped his clipboard. "Okay, no one's absent today, wonderful."

"Uh...Lancer?" Mikey asked, sudden worry on his face.

"What?"

"Aren't you forgetting someone?"

"Am I?"

With a slight hesitation that dragged a few surrounding students out of their stupor, Mikey attempted to contradict the superior power within the room. "...What about—"

"Hey! Teach! Fenton's not here yet!" Cutting off the smaller student, Dash looked ecstatic that Mr. Lancer had made a mistake.

Mikey wilted in relief, no longer under the spotlight.

"I know." Lancer said without a hint of care in his voice.

"Than why are you saying no one's absent?" Star wondered, the entire class waking into the mildly interesting argument now.

"Because _no one is absent_, Mrs. Satel." Mr. Lancer said monotonously as usual, but now there was air about him, making his students all the more curious.

"What are you—?"

"I didn't say everyone was here. I got a few emails saying he wouldn't be coming today because, apparently, this class doesn't relate to life as much as his parents' profession." Lancer replied with an indignant huff.

"This class _doesn't_ relate to real life, Mr. Lancer. It's pointless." Dash said without much consideration.

"Pointless? Tell me, how is my class pointless?" Lancer retorted in mock anger, inwardly, the teacher was smiling to himself. He had learned a strategy from his most recent book, and it seemed to be working. There were only about one or two students yet to tune their ears into the discussion.

"Well, think about it, how is Julius Caesar going to get us anywhere in the real world?" Dash said, egged on by Kwan. "Who uses that kinda stuff outside of an English class?"

_Stir up a few questions, make them ask something of you, bring it to a discussion they'll want to participate in…_"Veni, vidi, vici, Mr. Baxter, is a famous quote from Julius Caesar, one that can help you to instill a little motivation in your life." Lancer answered with a smile. They were actually starting the lesson for him—a nice change.

Under the impression that if he kept talking, he'd keep stalling, Dash went for the comedian route. "Vendi voodoo whaty? What kind of English class is this if we aren't even going to speak English?"

Laughs emanated from the A-list group, and a few less-popular with them.

"_Veni, vidi, vici_, means 'I came, I saw, I conquered.'" Lancer replied, writing it and the translation across the blackboard.

"And how will that help me?" Dash asked sarcastically, much to the enjoyment of the class.

"You'd be surprised." Lancer said, replacing the chalk to its rightful place and scooping up the play, his eyes scanning the class to land, once more, upon Dash Baxter.

"Oh yeah?" Dash wondered, despite his act there was now an unmistakable hint of curiosity behind his words.

Grinning, and deciding he needed to use this strategy to get his student's attention more often, Lancer opened the book. "Yes, actually—"

_BAM!_

"Sorry I'm late!" A panting Danny Fenton called, his momentum continuing across the room until he half fell into his seat.

_Well, there goes today's lesson_, Mr. Lancer thought with much annoyance. "Mr. Fenton!" He called, hoping the anger in his tone would re-direct the attention of his students back to the lesson if their curiosity was satisfied. "What is the meaning of this?"

"I'm...uh...late?" Danny asked, setting his book bag on the ground.

"I'm guessing the email I received from you - and your parents - this morning was a joke then?" Lancer folded his arms with a slight scowl.

"A...joke. Uh...yeah?" Danny asked uncertainly.

"I'm sure you enjoy getting out of class one day just to come charging in unannounced to interrupt my lesson?" The teacher demanded.

"Um...if I had any idea what this was about I think I _might_ be able to answer more truthfully." Danny said, his hand reaching down for a pad of paper.

"Oh! Actually, Mr. Lancer, it was a joke Danny and I were trying to play on you! Ha ha, we got you good, didn't we Danny?" Tucker stated in a strained voice, standing up so fast his chair fell on the ground. Many students giggled.

Lifting his eyebrows, Danny played along as well as he could. "Um, yeah, yeah, that."

"Detention." Lancer sighed, knowing the potential of getting his class back onto the lesson was next to zero. "And we were discussing the usage of 'Veni, vidi, vici' in the real world." Lancer continued, unceremoniously handing out his assignment.

"Was that English?" Danny asked curiously, taking the worksheet being passed.

"That was Roman, 'I came, I saw, I conquered'." Lancer replied, "And you are all going to do an essay on it, in order to relate it to how one could use said quote in real life."

Much to the groans of the class, Danny continued to ask questions. "How do we use that in the real world?"

"Well, as I was explaining to everyone else before you so rudely interrupted..." Lancer said, reflecting on how, if Danny hadn't come in right then, he could have everyone happily writing the essay to contradict his argument.

"That this class doesn't matter because we aren't learning English in an English class." Dash said matter-of-factly, frowning at his essay. "How come this says I have to write about the importance of English too?"

Mikey sniggered, only to be silenced very quickly by a death glare from Dash.

Looking exasperated, Lancer returned to his front desk. "Seeing as I can't convince _you_, Mr. Baxter, I decided perhaps you could learn to appreciate the subject more by putting thought into two essays, instead of just one."

Ignoring his teacher fully now, Danny was busy reading a note from Sam. _So, why did he get an email saying you were going to be listening to your father rant all day?_

He scribbled a quick reply. _Technus hacked my computer again last night, I guess he got into my email—and my contacts list—probably decided to make life difficult for me. Then this morning The Box Ghost woke me up at four, ran, I chased him all the way to the pier, where Walker also happened to be looking for him. Didn't get out of it until now._

"Mr. Fenton, put that away please." Lancer stated blandly, writing instructions on the board.

With a shrug, Danny handed her the note and tried to look like he cared about what type of essay they had to write.

* * *

_**That afternoon…**_

A thundering crash rocked the Nasty Burger, accompanied by many of its occupants screams.

Looking out the large windows, it was easily seen that the notorious Danny Phantom was using his thermos to trap the towns' most recent poltergeist. Excited, a crowd of fans rushed outside.

With a triumphant smile, Danny turned to face the crowed of teenagers. Hoisting his thermos victoriously over his head he shouted, "Veni, vidi, vici! I came, I saw, I _conquered_!" Beaming, he sped off.

* * *

_**The next day...**_

Lancer picked up a tenth essay, puzzled. "I don't get it…" Lancer repeated for the seventh time, shifting around the papers for an essay that had a different theme from the rest. "_What_ about yesterday's conversation made everyone write about ghosts?"

* * *

**XD A review for your moments entertainment? Please? Tell me how aweful and abrupt the ending was, inform me of how I need to work on other things...Oh! Speaking of other things, I have gotten a request! A one-shot Danny Phantom/Fairly Odd Parents crossover. I'm still bouncing ideas in my head, but if any of you want to, feel free to give me a few thoughts! ...^^ I could use a spot of help. Like if it should be in different multivereses like those Jimmy/Timmy things, or if they've both got the same world...I'm not all that sure yet. XD Feel free to drop a suggestion!**

**~Catalyst  
**


	17. Midsummer Nights

**Hello everybody! Back with another oney, and this time I'm taking up my own insane challenge along with another person's in the same story. *eyeroll* The things I write when hyper, incredibly close to sleep, and supposed to be studying for my permit...**

* * *

**Midsummer Nights**

* * *

My head drooped over the paper, mind struggling to stay awake.

_Stay awake…_I groaned, forced my arms to stretch. I glanced at the clock. _4:15_. _Only one minute_… I sighed, shifting to get a more comfortable position on the stiff wood digging into my back.

Rolling my pen across the paper, I stared blearily at the packet, wondering what would be important to underline next…_If involved in a traffic accident you must…law enforcement…damage…unattended…_

I pressed the ball-point to paper, creating a shaggy line that crisscrossed with another. "Wait…" I squinted at it, focusing the blur out of my eyes. "Oh, man…" I muttered, "I've already _read_ this part."

Cursing, I took another look at the clock. _4:18. Only three minutes…_

Brushing a dark lock of hair from eyes, I glared at the packet and flipped a page, hoping I could wing that portion…

_Demerit Point System_

"Wonderful." I whispered. "What the heck is a demerit?" Underlining the title, I shrugged my shoulders, twisting around my wrist to give it more feeling.

Blinking at an almost too-cheerily lit lamp, I slumped forward, peering helplessly at the flashing red of my alarm clock. _4:20. Two minutes…_I shivered at the cold wind pricking my neck.

Thankful for something else to do, I sauntered over to the open window in order to end the constant flashes of frost that taunted me. Placing cold fingers on the even colder edge containing the duck-taped glass that was my window, I found myself distracted by the brilliance of the full night sky. Even in downtown Amity, stars managed to peek through a screen of bright lights that created a glowing orb spanning for miles passed the city limits.

I yawned, leaning heavily on the sill, convincing myself that all I needed was a bit of fresh air to clear my head, then I'd get right back to studying.

…At first I didn't even realize I was climbing out until I noticed the frozen outside wall spanning below me. With a slightly delirious laugh, I kicked off of my desk, tumbling into the night air. For a moment I closed my eyes and enjoyed the short free fall, easily twisting into intangibility when I sensed the ground inches from cracking bone.

I changed form underground, lazily drifting back up to surface level. This time stretching out much farther than I could have as a simple human; I lifted off for a night flight. Everyone was asleep at this hour…it would be nice for a little un-hunted time to myself.

"I'd almost forgotten what free time meant." I chuckled, hanging a loop just because I could. Momentarily dethatched from responsibility, I lounged on my back, staring up at the winking stars…soaring to a new height, I twisted to gaze upon my dazzling hometown, amused eyes tracking early-bird cars, colorfully flashing street lights, the downtown slums, the upper-class suburbs, and another flier zigzagging around Honey Oak Park.

…_Another flier?_ Feeling a sinking disappointment that meant I'd have to go track down a ghost, and at this hour, made my stomach lurch. For a moment I considered leaving it be and going back to my room and continue putting in a shapeless effort to earn a drivers permit.

But, before I could make up my mind to look away, a portion of the park lit up with a heavy succession of pink ectoblasts. With an exhausted growl, I flung myself in the direction of Honey Oak, knowing that the only other hunters capable of taking out any ghost strong enough to produce stable ectoblasts were sound asleep.

Coming along the park entrance, I was annoyed to hear the sounds of more shooting and the incessant whirr of gunfire. A red blur streaked around, swinging to a complete stop and aiming her gun back at the poor maple tree.

_What the hell is Valerie doing up at four am_? I whined, completely aware that any sane person would think her actions totally cracked. I mean, _come_ _on_, she was target-practicing an unmovable object.

But, then again, I was up too. And in the sleepless (and therefore unstable) condition I was in, it probably wouldn't take much more for me to trot up there and join her. In fact…my feet shuffled ahead, obeying a mental command I normally wouldn't issue.

Tonight was not a normal night.

"Hey, Val." I said, plastering a friendly smile across my face, "Mind if I ask why we're shooting at the defenseless tree?"

Valerie detracted her board, thumping to the ground (okay, I was awake enough to know that was _so_ not her regular response to my voice), "Go away, stupid Phantom." She slurred, not bothering to look at me.

I pulled into a stop only a foot from crashing into her as Valerie pivoted, blasting a hole right through the maple's trunk. "Val?" I squeaked in surprise.

This was really weird. A: She wasn't attacking me. B: She took a step toward me. C: She was _shooting_ a _tree_.

"I'm not in the mood, Phantom." Val mumbled, replacing the ectopistol to her belt. Folding her arms, Val twitched to face me. "I told you last time, I'm not in the mood to talk to some hallucination."

Quickly, Valerie pulled back her mask, inspecting me with a close eye. "Where's your trophy?" She demanded.

"Trophy?" I wondered. "Val, are you okay? You've got bags under your eyes…when was the last time you slept?" I inquired with evident concern.

Val swaggered a finger at me, "Don't act wise to me ghost, I was busy attacking that ghost," she shot an accusing finger at the tree, "and _you_ interrupted me!"

"…You _always_ interrupt me." She added as an afterthought.

I took a cautious half-step toward her, coming within a distance so I could catch her if she happened to tip over. It was then that I could smell alcohol wafting into the air when Valerie breathed out. "You're intoxicated?" It was more of an angry yelp than a question.

Valerie swooned into my arms in a lame attempt to punch me. Her elbows rested on my shoulders and Valerie giggled, nose to nose with my face. I began to squirm uncomfortably, not wanting to harm her but not wanting to be so close either.

I admit, if my mind were more alert, I probably would have been able to stumble back before she did it. But I just wasn't that prepared for what happened next.

Val locked her bloodshot eyes on mine, surging recklessly forward to crush her lips to my own. At the same time, I felt the cool edge of her blaster cut into my side.

She pulled away, licking her chops hungrily. "You taste like snow." She commented. Before I even had time to blink she fired, and pain exploded along my abdomen. With weak knees crashing onto hard earth, my fingers squelched into faintly glowing blood.

I looked up at the sound of deranged laughter. The back of her curly dark head ducked an invisible opponent, and she returned fire at a young sapling, completely ignoring me.

"Take that!" She screamed wildly, setting the little thing aflame. I stumbled to my feet, when a smarter, more alert me would have stayed to put out the fire and help Valerie in some way, I ditched the hero method and got the heck out of there before I became too dizzy from blood loss.

This was _definitely_ not a normal night.

* * *

**Okay, so my challenge was to write fluffy angst, because it wasn't entirely proven possible. :) It's a matter of opion wether or not I got it...the other challenge was from ghostanimal, who was so kind to ask for a Phantom/Valerie kiss pairing thing. Sorry, ghostanimal, but I killed my romance muse, and my angst muse decided to take it's place. Whoopsy. ^^;**

**And props to Cori (who totally beat me to finishing the challenge...) her speed in writing it made me get off my lazy bum to do it! XD Yay! ...But, honestly, I meant this to be a pure bite of fluff...I have no _idea _how the angst managed to crawl up in there...**

**~Catalyst**


	18. Ectonite

**Alright, I'm updating faster than usual...oh well, it's summer, that's what I do! XD Enjoy...**

**Disclaimer: I own Danny Phantom the day pigs fly. :pig flaps by window: . . . 0.o It's taunting me...  
**

* * *

**Ectonite

* * *

**

I tossed the screwdriver between my hands, frowning in thought. "Plants' hybrid zones affect biodiversity…so, in mixing plant life with ectoplasm to create a hybrid structure, it results in affecting the environment around it…" I ticked the map with another thumbnail. "That could explain, in part, the decline of red wolves in Louisiana. Eating a plant that has been mixed with an ectoplasmic substance can produce a high toxicity within the creature that devours it…or, if for some reason the herbivore is not affected, the predator may be, hence a loss of red wolves…"

I stared at my invention while thinking, running a hand over the map. "There was a large cluster of the ecto-infused plants in Delaware. But it's been there so long the data concerning the initial reaction of the wildlife surrounding has been lost, or never recorded in the first place…"

I tinkered with my work, glad to have something that my mind could operate with while I wondered. "How any form of plant could mix with ectoplasm is still a mystery…any living thing should die upon having a high concentration of ectoplasm fused to it…or, in this case, anti-ectoplasm." A smile drifted to my lips. "Looks like I'll be making new theories about biochemistry."

I scowled, "Wait, no…ectoplasm managed to infuse with bio-energy before…" My mind recalled Vlad's accident. The resulting ecto-acne kept Vlad in intensive care for years…but he lived with some small concentration of ectoplasm bound to his body for that long period. My current hypothesis is that Vlad's consciousness as a human being pulled the ecto-energy closer to him, making a temporary bind as long as he felt extreme emotion. I had helped induce a coma for Vlad to get rid of it, and although it took a few years for the ecto-acne to wear off, it eventually succeeded.

We would never do that to someone again, but it had proven possible. Perhaps, because of a plant's shorter life span, the ectoplasm could stay on its life energy longer…and be passed on to the next generation before the mixture either faded away from lack of higher consciousness, or strangled the plant…

As the absurdity of the situation hit me, I rolled my eyes. Super plants that damage ghosts, if their cellular structure doesn't break down first. Hopefully, that won't be a reflection of the line of ghost hunters…

"Mom! There's a guy at the door with a package for you!" Danny hollered down to me.

"Coming!" I replied, setting everything down. I hopped upstairs, barely containing my excitement. I was sure that this was my package from Delaware, and I could have plenty of room for more experiments…not to mention my invention lying in wait to use the plant as a power source…

Grinning broadly, I accepted the stranger's pen and clipboard, "Danny, honey, take the package and open it for me, please." My son nodded, pulled out a pocket knife (_when did he get one of those?_), and started slicing away at the tape.

Finishing with the mail man, I trotted over to Danny, who was pulling out a carefully wrapped bundle of seeds. I plopped down next to him, picking a little baggie up as well.

"What are these?" Danny asked, curling his nose while he untied it.

I smiled at him, "It's a plant I've been researching."

"They smell weird." Danny commented.

Curiously, I bent down to sniff them. After a moment, I shook my head. "I don't smell anything."

He unceremoniously dropped the bag. A few seeds spilled out onto our stainless steel table top. "What kind of seeds are they?" He asked me, reaching down to pick up the spilled items.

Danny gasped in shock, yanking his hand back. "Blood blossoms!" he squeaked, flipping backwards.

I stood, grabbing hold of my son. "Danny, are you okay?" _What kind of reaction was that? I'd been touching the seeds too…_

Danny jerked away from me, his hand glowing an angry red. "Get those _things_ out, get them out!" Danny begged, his voice rising in agony. The red glow hungrily clawed up Danny's arm, forming random welts in its wake.

I did as ordered, snatching up the seeds in a frenzy. "I'll be right back, honey!" I shouted over my shoulder, mind frantically trying to figure out what was going on. Maybe it was because I had gloves on, and he didn't…"Damn that stupid farmer," I cursed, dashing into the lab. "He told me these were perfectly _safe_."

I dumped everything on the counter, hesitating. Quickly, I yanked off one glove, feeling the seeds with my own bare fingers.

They were a little warm, but that was it. No pain, no fizz of energy running up my arm…nothing. My son's muffled cry yanked me away, and I exploded back into the living room, forcing the curiosity out of mind.

"Danny!" I yelled, shocked. A faint red glow was twisting all over his body, finally reaching his toes.

He screamed a choking, strangled howl. Two rings suddenly zipped into existence. Only later, after discovering the truth, would I realize my son's body was coming up with the only defense it had been taught to use when adrenaline, mixed with agonizing pain, surged through his system.

I stopped moving, half way into a crouch. The red glow intensified, mixing with another unearthly glow. I dropped to my knees, feeling my son's forehead as ice burst into existence, draping itself protectively all over Danny's body.

"Danny?" I whispered, tugging my hand out of the crystallized white tangle of hair.

His self-generated ice melted quickly, and he blinked green eyes at me. A small, worried smile drifted onto Danny Phantom's—my son's—face. "Thanks, mom." He choked out, falling into spastic coughs.

I didn't have the strength to reply right then, because the red glow that had been momentarily abated burst back into full force, and I had to focus on keeping my son alive—if he wasn't dead already.

Yanking my hand back as Danny produced another wave of ice, I slowly breathed in. "Danny, what in the name of the Ghost Zone and all things spectral have you been keeping from me?"

All I got in response was a weak laugh and, "You have _no_ idea…"

Somehow…I couldn't help wondering how this was going to change my theory on biochemistry, _again_.

* * *

**Ahh...fluffy angst...^^ Such a joy. XD Also known as flangst.  
**

**Now, a million thanks to my editor, Amazing Bluie, for making this look supreme and amazing! I couldn't have had such wonderful flow without your help. :-)**

**~Catalyst**


	19. DnF

**:smiles: I do so _love _the smell of random one shots in the morning. It's short, but I don't honestly mind....  
**

**Disclaimer: When H-E-double hockey sticks freezes over. :crosses fingers for it to snow in Vegas again:**

* * *

**DnF**

* * *

I yawned, blinking the blur out of my eyes long enough to glance down at the techy red-line watch bound to my wrist. It's only eleven thirty …I should still be in bed at such an ungodly hour.

But, here I was, unable to sleep and ambling down Jasper Road with midday traffic honking the buzz out of my mind. So _not_ how I intended to spend my Saturday.

I stifled another yawn, turning left on 40th towards the little Dunk 'n Fresh coffee place, in desperate need of a double shot mocha latté before I caught up with Danny and Sam for a movie marathon centering around our favorite zombie-fied dead teachers.

I scowled at the noontime rush swelling throughout the shop, wondering if I should just wait until the crowd passed. My stomach growled in rebellion, reminding me that the next food place was three blocks away. A whole _three blocks_.

With a strangled sigh I pushed open the doors and somehow managed to get my preferred drink (with a wink and "Shaken, not stirred," to the pretty blond up front) without more than a simple fifteen minutes in line.

My next dilemma was where to sit. Inside the place was hot and stuffy, filled with bodies shouting for their order. Outside…I managed to push my way to the open air, glancing at the full tables placed strategically in front of the open windows, calling in a familiar, welcoming way to more customers…and putting me out of a place to put my bottom long enough to scarf down 6.75$ worth of energy.

One woman in her early twenties stood from her lonely table islanded in a sea of filled chairs. She smiled right at me (seriously, I looked around) and beckoned. I stepped back a little, and she laughed, waving me forward.

Shyly, I moved in. "Here," She grinned, pointing to the only other empty seat right next to her, "it's a waste of space to keep this table all to myself."

I swallowed, smiling in return at her friendly demeanor. "Uh, thank you."

She nodded in approval when I plopped gracelessly down. "I'm Maria. You?"

"Tucker." I responded immediately, giving her one of my winning punch lines, "Tucker Foley, TF; as in _Too Fine_."

Maria laughed lightly, seating herself, "Nice to meet you Mr. Too Fine."

I blushed, taking a sip of my coffee. I wonder if this could be classified as flirting with an older woman—Danny would never believe it. Actually…no, _Sam_ would never believe it; _Danny_ would ask me all about it.

Maria's light green eyes danced as she inspected me, a slight grin tugging at the edges of her lips. "Mr. Tucker, may I ask you something?"

"Just Tucker." I winked, "And yes."

She giggled, "Well, _Tucker_, I'm new here. You seem like a strong young man who knows his way; do you think you could show me around town?"

"Uh…sure." I mumbled, frowning. "Just out of curiosity, why on Earth would you move here? This is…well, you _have_ to know the stories."

She stirred her drink, a curtain of auburn hair drifting over her face. "I know the stories."

I snorted, "Then you either moved here as a tourist looking to see if ghosts are real or if we're all just a bunch of nut jobs," I grinned, "Trust me, you'll learn that this town isn't full of crazy cases by the end of the day, if you haven't already."

Maria brushed the stray locks back, peeking at my double shot drink. "No…I'm not here _for_ the ghosts."

I rolled my eyes, "Like there's another reason to come here?"

Her face softened, "Yes. I came here seeking my love."

I swear if I wasn't done swallowing it the fluids I'd been drinking would have catapulted out my nose in the most embarrassing fashion. Instead I ended up going through a little coughing fit, while Maria waited patiently for me to finish. "Love?" I sputtered out, "Do you know who you're looking for?"

She smiled sweetly, placing a cold hand over mine, "I believe that I've already found him."

For some reason the skin on the back of my neck crawled, and my instincts shrieked for me to jerk away from her touch. But I was paralyzed, helpless. Maria's face did not change from the light, happy mood she portrayed, her harsh whisper the only thing that broke through my mind. "And you are going to take me to the body that can hold him, Tucker Foley."

Maria's green eyes flashed, and I nodded, standing up with a cool smile. "Of course."

"Can you get me inside?" She asked, never taking her hand from mine.

"Maria, my darling," My voice drawled, "He is the best friend of the body we need. There will be no trouble. I can play this nice and smooth."

My thoughts where so jumbled, I couldn't understand why my voice was talking and my body was moving. Surely I was still sitting at cute little coffee table, fiddling with my drink and talking to some pretty girl…

I wouldn't understand until it was too late.

* * *

**...Why is it that every time I write fluff it becomes angst? Magically? x//x Well, I guess this fits as 'Flangst'. XD Which will work. And about the title, DnF, it was the title of the coffee shop in abbreviations. I couldn't think of anything else to put. ;) I guess it could mean 'Drink near Fred' or something weird like that, but we'll go with it as the cafe name. XP  
**

**~Catalyst**


	20. Parental

**A/N: -sigh- Just another day in melt-down land. XD Let it begin.**

**Disclaimer: ... _Fine_. I don't own Full Metal Alchemist, Harry Potter, Death Note, Chuck Norris, Danny Phantom, Disney Channel, _or _the deli toothpick cellophane-twirling device. The voices in my head just like to feel important and temporarily 'claim' them. It's not at all my fault the lawyers are after me.**

* * *

**Parental**

* * *

Danny shifted nervously under their disapproving frown. Sitting in the same seat for so long was starting to really hurt. "So…it's a secret. And I—"

"We." Sam corrected.

Danny nodded, trying to avoid looking directly at them "Right, _we_ have been keeping it for almost two years now and it would be nice if you could, uh, not tell anyone."

Relatively exhausted after explaining for what must have been three hours, Danny slumped in the high-backed chair. Finally lifting his eyes to meet with theirs. Minutes ticked by, and – surprisingly – Jeremy was the first to break the silence, "So, can you see through things?" His tone accusing.

"Huh?" Danny asked.

Sam stood, "No! It's not like _that_! Unless if he turns it invisible…but that's beside the point!"

Danny looked between the two, "What are we talking about?"

"Nothing." Sam replied, Tucker snickered in the background.

Jeremy shrugged, "There's no need to yell at me for being cautious when it comes to you, Sam."

Pamela huffed, "That's all you're going to say? This is so…" She looked at Danny as one would an unpleasant stench. "So like you Sam, this proves it. We can pull you out of school now and—"

"Mom!" Sam shouted. "Stop trying to stick me in a private school, I'm not going anywhere!"

"You're putting yourself in danger, what else am I supposed to do? Let you continue running around with this…this unnatural abomination?!" She gestured to Danny, who flinched.

Sam grew cold, "Call him that _one_ more time mother and I will…"

Pamela steeled herself and glared at her daughter, "Abomination."

With a shout of outrage Sam launched herself across the table, her mother barley able to move out of the way while Jeremy and Danny reacted together, taking hold of Sam's arms as she struggled frantically.

"Stop!" Jeremy shouted.

Sam kicked, glaring at the impossibly far goal of her retreating target, "Sam! It's not getting you anywhere! Cut it out!" Danny attempted, tugging her backwards.

"She offended you!" Sam cried.

"Do I look offended or annoyed?! Honestly, I've been called worse, Sam!"

"Take it BACK!" Sam screamed.

"No!" Pamela refused.

Tucker skirted around the table and next to Pamela by the corner, "I would take it back if I were you." He whispered. "Danny may be the half-ghost, but Sam's stubborn. You might want to…"

"Ow! She _bit _me!"

"…apologize."

Pamela stiffened. "Don't you think I'd know my own daughter?"

Danny struggled and, fed up, transformed in order to create a green shield to encase his best friend in. "Don't make me overshadow you Sam!"

"You will do nothing of the sort." Jeremy commanded coolly, stepping back from the shield.

Quickly, Danny entered the orb in which Sam glowered. He sighed, "Sam, you knew they'd react harshly..."

"Why did they have to be here today?" Sam whispered, tears sparking in her eyes. "Why did they have to choose today to actually be home for a Saturday night? Why did I feel like suggesting we fly here? Why didn't we land in the basement instead of the front room?"

Danny shook his head, "We just did. It's not your fault that all this happened, it just did." Biting his lip Danny glanced nervously to the blurred people outside of their protective bubble, "We just have to figure out a way to work through this, okay? Then things will go back to normal."

"No, Danny." Sam argued, "Things will _never _go back to normal after this, I can never make up an excuse for going out to the movies when they see 'Danny Phantom Has Struck Again' as the next news headline." She blinked rapidly, "I can never go out ghost hunting with you again."

Danny lifted an eyebrow, "Who in their right mind would try to stand in your way when you want something?"

"My parents," She mumbled.

"Did they stop you from wearing black daily?" Danny questioned.

"No..."

"Did they stop you from getting into Circus Gothica? Ignoring what actually happened after we got there."

Sam sighed, "No."

Danny grinned, "Then what can possibly be so different?"

Purple eyes tightened to a scowl, "The fact that 'I'll expose your best friend' is hanging over my head, that's what."

Danny frowned, "What they say about me is their problem, I can handle whatever they throw at me. They won't be the first rich and influential billionaires that I'd have to handle." He smiled, gesturing to the flickering shield, "Do you want me to hold this up forever?"

"Don't change the subject—Vlad doesn't count. You have a secret to balance that out. These are my _parents _Danny, they don't understand anything!"

"I think we'd understand, honey." Jeremy but in, blinking through the green wall. "We love you, and if you want to work something out then we can."

Danny blushed at the reminder that his shield couldn't block out sound. Sam ignored the swirling transparency, her eyes turning into hard stone. "It's a secret," Sam replied, motioning for Danny to drop the shield so she could move closer to her father. He did as asked. "You have to keep it."

Jeremy nodded solemnly. "Of course. We'll need to know where you are on a constant basis and if you're out near ghosts you need to..." He trailed off, unsure of how to finish that sentence.

"You will come home immediately." Pamela stated firmly.

Sam turned on her, "No, I _won't_. You can't stop me from hunting ghosts, I'm nearly sixteen. I'm _going_ to do what I want."

"It's not safe!" Her mother shot back, stepping forward. "I will not allow any daughter of mine to chase after dead things! The black, I could tolerate, even your friends—which were not the desirable pick of the litter—I put up with! But I draw the _line _at that _thing_!" She pointed accusingly at Danny.

Tucker folded his arms, "Hey, we're still in the room."

"Then get out." The adult female shook, "I always knew Sam could use a different group of friends—you're both horrible influences. Why she never decided to be popular and do _normal _things like a _normal _girl—"

"I'm sorry I was busy keeping our town safe instead of shooting up heroine on the weekends like those other 'normal' girls!" Sam yanked on Danny's arm, "Come on Danny, _we _aren't welcome here."

Tucker raced after them, leaving behind a shrieking mother in her comfortable suburban home in favor of the darker, downtown streets.

Once far enough away that anyone searching for them would have difficulty, Danny changed back into his human default. "You didn't have to leave. You were allowed to be there, it's your house."

Sam barked out a harsh laugh, "The three of us are a package deal, if she tells one of us to go, we _all _go."

Tucker nodded in approval. "I doubt you'd get any other chances to leave after that anyway. Neither of you were close enough to see how badly her eye was twitching."

"But Sam, you still have to go back," Danny pushed, feeling guilty for what happened. "It's your home."

Sam sighed. "Grandma moved out a month ago. There's no holding me there."

"You can't turn into a runaway because of me!"

She grinned at her best friends. "Only for long enough that Danny Phantom sends a threatening little warning note; 'Don't say a word about me or I will take your daughter again.' Maybe add a little 'she can wear as much black as she wants' or, oh, how about 'don't nag her to get a makeover—"

"Sam." Danny cut in. "Let's not push it, okay?"

Tucker laughed. "Why not put 'she has to wear pink once a week' on that letter, Danny? I'm sure it will appease her mom."

Danny grinned. "Once a week? Why not all wee—ow!"

Sam retracted her fist and aimed for Tucker. Hooting with laughter, the techy was already half a block away, waving dramatically.

She and Danny gave chase, reveling in the small freedom of the moment.

* * *

**Because everyone needs to laugh after a bad day and a horrible meltdown at home.**

**~Catalyst**


	21. I'm Hearing Voices

**A/N: Hey, August twelfth again...and my birthday. Thought I might as well post this here old drabble for the pleasure or your reading. 22 minutes before midnight strikes me into the thirteenth, too, what fun. =3 Oh, um, I had no intent to post this, really, cause it's...weird. ^^ But it's perfect for a midnight posting on my sweet sixteen! STORY: Post PP! I thought up the title just now! Weee!  
**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom. But I do own Nick (heehee). I don't own a lot of the names in here like ArDean or Little Easy Street. I was too lazy to make up original names so I just stole them off of streets and friends. **

* * *

**I'm Hearing Voices...**

* * *

The anchor sighed, plastering a smile on his face at the end of the ten second count. "Thanks, Greta." He said automatically. "I'm here at yet _another_ house gifted by the Act. The owner is Mitt Johnson, a man who had his business taken from him when at its peak. As is the sad story of many entrepreneurs who had been forced to sign off their life's work without ever being aware of what they were doing until it was, unfortunately, too late."

Taking a few steps back he patted the back of a tall, broadly grinning man. "Mitt, do you have any words for us?"

"Well, Nick, I just want to say that I'm so thankful for my family, and of course my very supportive wife, who stood by me in the hard times when we lost our business…" _Twenty says he's going to thank his mother next… _Nick frowned, forcing the rouge thought to the back of his mind. _Quiet_, he ordered in annoyed response. Nick tightened his fingers around the mike, refusing to allow any small gesture get out of _his_ control. "…and I'd also like to thank my mother for her financial support when we needed it most."

With a slight strain that only a very, very close friend could ever notice, Nick opened his smile wider. "And what are you going to do with the portion of Dalv Co. being given to you?"

"Well, sir, I have a mind to start fresh. Re-charge my business in full force."

Nick used the slight pause in his sentence to expertly cut the man off. "There you have it, another story that plans to rebuild and refresh. Back to you Greta."_ He'll never be able to hold up that business…it's going to crumble within months, weeks even._ Exchanging goodbyes with the too-clingy Johnson family was distracting enough that Nick could pretend he didn't hear that.

"Alright, sorry guys but we gotta turn in, we've been interviewing families all day and Nick, your wife called, you have a very important dinner to attend to. She said unless if you plan on sleeping on the couch, get your butt home in fifteen minutes. If you don't get across town fast there'll be issues, I'm sure." ArDean stormed on the scene, scattering a group of squawking chickens.

Nick nodded to her, completely relieved to retreat from the laughing Johnson family. "I owe you one," he whispered when shuffling passed her. She just grinned, trotting up to the Johnsons with the biggest, not-fake smile on her face.

ArDean was well aware he wasn't married and lived alone in an apartment five minutes from where they were, on the outskirts of town that bordered between 'rural' and 'urban'. _You like her, don't you?_ The traitor voice whispered.

_I told you to shut up._ Nick snapped in reply, hopping into his car. There was something like a sigh that drifted into his ears. Practice allowed Nick to ignore it. Habit had him repeat (embarrassingly, out loud) that it was relatively normal for someone to talk to themselves.

_Practice can slacken and habits can die._

"For once, I agree with you." Nick said, turning onto Little Easy Street. "But that doesn't mean it will."

As usual, the annoying voice paid no mind to the subject, instead deciding to change it. _For a place called Little Easy Street, this road is really beat down…broken. _

_Don't sound so happy when you say things like 'broken'_. Nick chided, repressing a shudder at the pleasure he himself felt. Pressure suddenly slammed into Nick's mind, momentarily forcing his eyes to black out.

Nick blinked, vision clearing to realize he was outside of his car (which was, thankfully, still in sight and parked not too far away) he was standing in front of an old thrift store, resting against the back wall.

_Awake?_

Nick ground his teeth. He had hoped that tiny bit of emotion wasn't enough to give the stupid voice control…and it seemed like he hadn't known what was going on for at least ten minutes…that was longer than any other time. Making a note not to let it feel happy about broken things, Nick reluctantly asked how long he'd been out for.

There was an instant sensation of chips containing memory sliding into his mind. Laughter that was not his but came out of his own voice. Driving down the street a little too quickly. Entering the thrift mart…_NO!_

Recoiling at the sudden anger and annoyance Nick immediately sought to bring it down a notch, positive he couldn't allow it to take over again. _What's the sudden precaution for?_ Nick whined. Whenever this happened before the voice would tease him with bits of his own memory. But he'd never really done anything with a purpose. Never had he been accidentally slipped something the voice didn't want him to see…what the heck kind of multiple personality disorder did that?

"What is it?" Nick wondered, kicking a rock as he moved down the sidewalk. _Don't get back in your car._ The voice warned. Nick snorted, "I need to get home somehow."

_Fine, then, let the ghosts kill you._ Nick paused, his hand frozen inches from the door of his blue sedan. _What ghosts?_ He asked, wondering if he should trust his personal for even a millisecond.

_For crying out loud, don't ask me 'what ghosts',_ the voice reprimanded, mocking. _You're an anchor._ _You of all people know a lot about what happens in the media. Who hasn't heard of the ghosts of Amity Park?_

Nick grudgingly accepted the logic. Only one place in the world was so well known about ghosts. The place that housed the very ghost who had managed to save the planet from imminent destruction…it had been the talk of the entire world for months now, and it still was. His story today was clear proof of that. The states were still working to split up the giant company into chunks, giving a lot of it to the original owners that were 'overshadowed' in order for Vlad Masters to steal—

_Give it a break and stop reminding me._ The voice moaned. _Just get away from your car if you want to live._

_And why should I be listening to you?_ Nick asked, exasperated. He stepped away from his vehicle and continued to walk down the lane.

_…You really are good at ignoring the truth when it stares you in the face, aren't you_? The voice wondered in a twisted form of awe. _Think. I came into your head a month after that silly disastroid issue. I warned ghosts were near, I—_

_Look,_ Nick cut off. _I'm not as stupid as you make me out. I know you're a ghost who's too _weak_ to completely take over my mind for long periods of time, I also know I can resist you and I have every intent of getting you out of my head. I've read up on your kind and I know all about you, Jekyll, why else would I listen when you told me to step away? What I'd like to know is what the _hell_ are ghosts doing in Delaware?_

There was silence. Nick stomped up to a tree, rubbing his hands together to keep the settling cold from reaching his fingers. _Well_? He prompted, sheltering from drifting tidbits of snow underneath the welcoming branches.

_…They're looking for me. And you're right, I've been greatly weakened. I haven't been near the Zone in so long, and getting passed that stupid planetary shield brought down my energy levels…I've had to rely on your pathetic emotion for nutrition, but I need your body to conceal my signature_.

Nick moved to settle on a cold bench. "I was hoping that Amity thing was a hoax and ghosts didn't exist." He commented dryly. "I was hoping that I was going a little insane or I had that multiple personality thing or whatever…" Nick huffed, watching his breath dissolve into the snowflakes.

"I know who you are now." He said, licking his lips. The voice waited, tensely readying itself for the answer it had also felt. "Why else would someone be looking for you? Although I kinda expected Vlad Masters to be a little more…well, more. You're really pathetic."

"Pathetic I may be, but if you get me near a portal I can get stronger, I'll leave and never bother you again."

Nick lifted his eyebrows in surprise. "I didn't black out." There was a tired, sad sigh, _I won't black you out. I need you to get me near energy so I can get stronger and actually go into real hiding._

"No." Nick responded, leaning back. "I'm not going to help you. The government has been uncovering whole bunches of stuff about you, and it's real bad. I'm not going to let you get back out into the world." Tilting his head to the sky, Nick smiled. "I can get you out of my head by taking you to the authorities. That GIW operation team maintaining the planetary shield would just _love_ to know how you got passed it."

A flash of imagery drifted, almost lazily into his mind. But what he saw made his skin run colder than the frigid air. It was a picture of a laboratory, a figure was tied up with needles sticking from every outlet of the body, eyes dull with pain. Blood flowed from one needle, and more was pumped in through another. Some glowing substance was being fed to him by a man in a hazmat suit. When the liquid dripped onto the pained mans tongue, a scream ripped through Nicks ears, and the image died.

_I started that GIW program. That's what they do to people who claimed to have voices in their head. They won't believe you, they'll think there's a ghost nesting in your mind and they'll want to experiment once the initial attempt to separate me from you fails._ Nick shivered. "What do you mean 'fails'? Why wouldn't they believe me?"

_The idiots have complete confidence in their shields. I was with you when you interviewed one of them._ Nick remembered. The man was a radical, and he had no problems showing it. Vlad was right, they'd be appalled if one suggested their shield let the one thing they were trying to keep out through. _And it'll fail because I bound myself to you._ He continued, clearly making an effort to keep down his frustration. Nick was yet to find out if Vlad avoiding forcing him to black out was good or bad…

_Listen!_ Vlad snapped. _I was stupid and too low on power to get half of what I was doing. I intended to get an easier target after spending one day with you. I even tried transferring to other bodies when you made any sort of physical contact. Nothing works._

Nick spat on the ground, hoping to get the bitter taste out of his mind. "You don't even know how you did it?" He asked, probing the other entity inside of his head. As far as he could tell, Vlad wasn't lying. "Wonderful. You want me to keep quiet and you've given me enough of a terrifying threat to do so. I've refused to give you power to let you out (which I'm assuming will break whatever bond you've accidentally had the stupidity to create). So...what now? I'm stuck with you?"

_Unless if you decide to get me energy._

"No, give me another option. You're keeping something from me and I want to know what it is."

_This is one of the reasons I'd trade you for anyone else. You're too stubborn and too blunt. You took the fact that someone else is living your mind without a second thought, and you have no idea what common courtesy means…_

"Shut your whining. I'm a reporter, that's what I do. I've done stores on you, remember?—you're far worse. Now tell me what you're hiding or I'll dig around in there and find it." Nick said, knocking a fist against his head (gently).

_What makes you think you can access my mind?_ Vlad purred dangerously.

Nick rolled his eyes. "Equivalent exchange. You can get into my head, I can get into yours."

Malevolent pleasure rolled inside of its boundaries. _I like your style kid, I could have used someone like you back when I had all the power._

Nick kicked at the ground. "Answer the question."

_Daniel can get me out. Get me the power I need and once I have full strength Daniel can contain me right after._

"Daniel…the kid who came up with the idea that got you kicked off the planet and kept our world alive?"

I_'m surprised you didn't add half-ghost. _Nick shrugged, "That makes me feel like I'm judging him or putting him on a pedestal. It's against my moral code to do that with someone I don't even know."

_I'm really regretting I couldn't have used you before I turned into this._

"And I'm really regretting listening to you, my toes are going to freeze off. Let me go back to me car."

_Oh, the ghost that was tracking me wasn't really _tracking_ me, it was just a tiny spirit that couldn't hold its form. The thing was attracted to the emotion I'd let out. It was safe all along. I simply didn't want it to recognize me; I can't afford any alarms to rise. My energy was still wrapped around you when you came to, but it's abated now. You can go._

Nick jumped up and began trotting back to his car. All the while muttering about evil voices that claim to be half-dead people… "Wait." He mentioned, slipping with the keys in his hand. "Half-dead...why not just become human once you came down here?"

Annoyance that was strong enough to physically make Nick's fingers twitch flickered across his mind._ I told you. I was low on power and I wasn't thinking straight. I needed to hide my signature and the first thing that came to mind was overshadowing. After I thought to hide my signature in human form I'd already bound myself._

"Makes sense." Nick said, starting the engine. "Now, tell me why you want to be captured once you get your power back. It makes _no_ sense to me. You don't intend to get caught…so…oh, wait."

Nick paused, frowning in thought. "You want to black me out, get your power back and escape once we're in Amity. You don't want me to meet this Danny kid…"

_The suggestion was worth a try_. Vlad muttered bitterly, clearly believing Nick was going to do nothing of the sort.

Nick laughed. "Wonderful. To Amity it is, then."

_What? I thought you decided to be gallant and not let me out so I can't become a 'danger to the world'?_

"I'm not going to." Nick said, tapping his head efficiently. "I'm taking you to the person you don't want to be near. I have a feeling he can fix this."

_You're taking me to Danny?_ Anger was reflecting harshly in his mind-voice.

"Off the record? Yeah, pretty much." Nick told him triumphantly.

_…I _hate_ that this stupid bond thing forced my honesty._

Nick grinned, pulling into a gas station. "Oh, so that's why you were being so straight with me. Thanks, I can get you out of my head that much sooner now because of it."

_Nick._

"Yes, crazy mind-voice that also happens to be a person?" Nick asked.

_I'm going to make your life hell._

And black slammed back over his vision again.

* * *

**Ignore typos and epic failness in favor of midnight posting fever! Wee! There's still some cake left yet!**

**~Catalyst**


	22. Change

**A/N: Hey. =3 Updating fast.**

**Disclaimer: In time, maybe I will own it. *laughs* But I have yet to reach such a goal.**

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**Change  
**

* * *

Clockwork drifted to another viewing portal, fingering his staff in a peculiar way. The scene before him depicted emotional suffering between a divided human family. Someone had forgotten to do the dishes again, and she was getting into trouble for it. If only the family could see, like he could, that their little girl would be taking this as the last straw. That that night she would leave, get picked up by the wrong type of person, and never be able to come back even if she wanted to.

He sighed when the child tried to call a friend for a shoulder to cry on. But there was no answer. A few hours later the girl would leave, quieter than a mouse, out her bedroom window.

Shaking his head, the ghost of time moved to another viewing portal. This one was happier, a couple celebrating their fiftieth anniversary. He smiled at someone's comment that they had made it against time, glancing at the well written invitation he had received from a ghost couple on their five thousandth anniversary and hoped these two would make it that far if they decided to stay after death. Too many ghosts had taken _till death do us part _far too seriously.

Another event depicted the clacking of keys as the Ghost Writer bent at reality, knocking a ghost to pay his inky price. It was deceitful and a shame that the writer took everything as a flame, even an apology. But he wouldn't dare try to pluck at the time stream, Clockwork knew that. And so the poet was allowed to continue.

He shifted, tapping his staff on the ground and all of the portal scenes changed. A child running hopelessly after a rabbit. A man holding his first gun at a store clerk. A group of protesters sparking a riot. It seemed there were always two unfortunate events for one that showed even mild joy.

Morphing into the body of a child, Clockwork leaned heavily on his staff as an old man would. He rubbed tirelessly at ancient bumps on the twisted wood, watching and knowing everything that has, is, and would happen. He had this profession bestowed upon him when when the first age began.

To know all and advice, keep order, watch. Make sure that time remains solid, for ectoplasm has the sticky ability to change that. Keep the worlds from falling apart. Know everything.

And never, _ever_, do anything about it. That was the order he was charged with. He would never go to change the fate of that young girl who had death raging in front of her, just as he would never do anything to stop the fiftieth anniversary of that elder couple. He hadn't been given the free will of every other being. He hadn't been given the choice.

Time had to be constant.

Time had to have no exceptions.

Time had to be oblivious to mercy.

Time had to leave no room for options.

Clockwork glanced at his largest never-changing portal view out the corner of his eye. Danny was busy at four am making up his history project. Clockwork was aware it would never get in because Daniel would be interrupted. And the resulting fight would destroy all of his work. Danny would get a D and be unable to come back up in time for the end semester.

The Observants who put down the laws of time had given him the task of guardian and responsibility to this boy. It had taken millennia's - so impossibly long to get to this point. Clockwork grinned faintly, touching a button on top of his staff and changing the course of the ghost that would interrupt his charge. Catalyzing a jump to B- for Mr. Feluecia's History class. Making the one life he was allowed to interfere in a tad bit better.

Time had to change. Just like everything else it touched.

And on that day that time finally moved, the laws he was bound to would break, and a prophecy older than himself would be fulfilled. His shackles would vanish, and the world would be his paradise to mold, if he decided to do so. It would be the end of his 'fate'. The start of _his _choices.

But then again, he knew that. He knew _everything_.

* * *

**Short, sweet, and possibly evil. I love it. XD**

**~Catalyst**


	23. Hypocritical

**A/N: I've never written for Sam before. Wonder what my twisted mind has come up with for her...:glances at it: Oh God. Fluffy humor. :laughs:**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom. Short, simple, generic. =) I like it.**

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**Hypocritical**

* * *

"So…you're not a Goth, you're a Hippie?"

"Why does Ultra-Recyclo Vegetarian have to mean I dance in flowers?" I snapped at the store clerk who was taking far too much time ringing up a simple pound of tofu and three bags of mega-spicy cheese puffs.

The boy smiled lamely, "Whatever you wanna be, honey."

I balked. "You did not just try to _hit_ on me." My fists balled up, and I recklessly promised myself never to go shopping at midnight no matter how much Tucker whined for me to get some snacks. I would ignore how dire he sounded about it being of utmost importance that he had his chemical death puffs to finish the last fifteen minutes of Dead Teacher IV.

The teen chuckled and swayed a little, blinking in confusion at the last bag of artificially flavored poison. "'Ow long has that been there?

"You're. _Kidding_. Me." I bit in exasperation.

"I thought you wanted to stay and talk with me because you liked me…" The boy sniffed. Crestfallen, he hefted the item onto his scanner, treating it more like a live bomb than I did.

I sighed, glancing at my watch. I'd been gone all of twenty minutes now. Great. Danny and Tucker probably think I've been attacked by a ghost and carted off to who-knows-where.

The boy squinted down at the scanner, "I don't think it's working." He slurred, giggling. "I think I have to call management, huh, sweetie?"

Just as I was about to snap in my most venomous tone, another voice carried louder and more obnoxiously annoyed than my own. "Hey, buddy, are you _high_?"

"_Dash_!" He squeaked.

The jock glared underneath a tottering pile of soda, chips, and dip. "Get a _grip_, Carson . Check out her food and let her go, for crying out loud I've been standing here watching you stumble for five minutes."

Carson or whatever cocked his head to the side, realization blooming on his face. "Hey, stay off of my girl!" The boy cried indignantly, looking between me and Dash.

"I am _not_ his girl!" I shouted, fully prepared to yank this kids hair out for such an insult as pairing me with Dash.

Dash expertly maneuvered the mountain of foodstuffs from his arms to the conveyor belt and cracked his knuckles threateningly. "Repeat after me, loser. One: I am _not_ her boyfriend."

"I—I'm not her boyfriend." The boy stuttered, his eye unable to flee the terrorizing sight of Dash's clenched hands.

"Two: She's out of my league." I lifted an eyebrow at Dash.

"She's out of my league."

"Three: I won't bother her again."

"I will not ever bother her again, I swear, Dash, I _swear_! I didn't know she was yours!" I growled at the kid behind the counter, eyeing the shelved candy for something that would work as a nice, hard, replacement rock.

"Four: Sam Manson is _not_ yours."

The kid slowed… "Sam Manson is not mine?"

Dash folded his arms. "I said _repeat, _maggot."

"Oh," He stuttered, fear clearly making him uncomfortable. "She's not yours, I'm sorry, she's not yours!"

I watched the kid cower restlessly, edging as far as he could from the jock as possible while still staying within the tiny register booth. It was wrong to see this type of torture and not do anything, but I didn't want the next girl going through here to have the same treatment I did…so, grudgingly, I kept my mouth shut and resolved to berate the idiot forcing this Carson kid to continue with 'I will never do this to another girl again,' and 'I will do my job and let her leave immediately,' after leaving the store.

And with the last repeated statement, Carson did. So quickly, in fact, that he was tripping over himself to give me exact change for my twenty that I finally just said keep it and stalked off.

I didn't go far, waited outside and sent off a txt message to Tuck explaining that I was going to be a bit late. With a grin I suggested the soy beans on the mini fridge's second shelf to tide him over until I got back.

I tightened my jacket against Amity's frigid air. The stars winked merrily at me, a flickering remain of last weeks' meteor shower bring back the happy memory of three of us sitting on our favorite hill, laughing about Desiree not even making it past the portal this time thanks to Jack's attempt at a ghost-detecting ecto shield backfire.

The store bell rung and Dash exited with an armful of baggies. "Need help?" I asked, watching him struggle in the direction of his car.

"Here," He dropped three bags from the fingers of his left hand, maneuvering everything else to accommodate with less weight. I blinked, not expecting him to do anything of the like but following along.

We trekked out to his car and Dash made his point immediately, "That meant nothing in there, you know. I just wanted to get my food and Carson would have taken a half hour more if I hadn't stopped him."

"I knew that, Dash. I'm not an idiot. It isn't why I stayed behind." I said, waiting for Dash to put everything in before I could hand off his items. "I don't want you doing that to another kid with me around, Dash."

"You didn't do anything about it at the time," The jock scowled, closing the back door now that all the groceries were in to face me. "That's hypocritical."

I shook my head, "Yeah, well, that guy needed a talking to but it was nothing I couldn't handle." I sighed, "Besides, if I would have interrupted he probably would have thought it'd be okay to do it to someone else."

"I can wail on whoever I want, Manson." Dash retorted with an eye roll. "You sound like my parents."

"Maggot?" I asked, placing a hand on my hip. "You sounded like a drill sergeant."

"So?!" Dash practically yelped. "I happen to like army terms, okay? Is that so bad to like the army, huh? Is it? It's not like my parents will kick me out if I enlist! It's not like they're serious or anything!" Dash opened his door, "Maggot is a perfectly normal term and I think if I'm going to be hearing it a lot I might as well…"

He trailed off and stared at me like he'd slipped some huge secret. "Army, huh?" I wondered. "Haven't heard that rumor floating around."

And it was true. I hadn't. Everyone was as sure that Dash was going to shoot for pro football as they were Danny and I were going to 'hook up'. Any whispered change in that plan would be the talk of Casper for months.

"And no one will hear it." The boy prompted with his face the exact opposite of his defensive tone. His eyes were wide and flighty, and his feet seemed to shift in a tiny, nervous pattern.

Dash was _scared_. This as not at all something I'd ever associated this huge, arrogant, bulk-head with. Fear took too much depth to tag it to Dash. Fear would make him human; fear turned him away from his stereotypical star quarter back look.

And I was going to burn this image of him into my mind. I just knew I would. _Darn it_. There goes the edge to any sarcastic taunt I ever come up with for him.

Dash gripped insecurely at his car door, "Manson, no one can know this. My parents…they'll _kill_ me!"

"Like I haven't ever heard that one before," I said, leaning casually on his jet black Impala. I'd heard the exact same line from Danny many times. And despite the obvious differences to how serious the statement was, I felt a little wall give way inside of me. The pity twisting around inside wasn't going to let me tell anyone if I had to take this to my grave.

But Dash…now, who said he'd have to know that? I grinned with sudden inspiration, "I won't tell, Dash, I promise. But…if you happen to torment anyone near me again, well, the secret just might get out." It was a bluff, but by the way Dash seemed to trip back a bit he took it as absolute truth.

"I can't do that, I have a reputation!" He shouted, puffing up like a great fish.

"Shame." I told him, inspecting my hand to cover the smile in my eyes.

With a struggling growl, he reluctantly muttered something below hearing. "What was that?" I asked sweetly. "I _said_ okay." He groaned, "And you bettered keep your promise, Manson."

This time I really did let him see me smile, and I stuck out a hand to solidify our agreement. "As long as you keep yours, Baxter."

Dash winced, taking one flighty glance at my hand and then around the place, as if to avoid it. Before I could scowl and tell him to just shake, he laughed, "Alright, then. Deal." Gripping my extended fingers so there was no escape, he pulled me into a revolting hug and his lips pecked at my cheek. "See you later, Goth loser. Enjoy."

Before I could register in shock what he'd just done, Dash sped out of the parking lot, recklessly dodging the three cars randomly placed cars. "What was _that_ for?" I asked, a blush clawing its evil way up.

I heard a triumphant shout, and I turned around in time to see the kid who was working register twenty feet behind me, replacing his sleek camera phone to his pocket. "I knew you two were dating! I _knew_ it!" And with a wild laugh, the boy dashed back into the store, shouting to the heavens that in the morning all of Casper High was to see his scandalous picture on all 'headline news' cell phones.

"C—come…_COME BACK HERE_!" My bag of goods and movie night forgotten, I raced after the boy with a murderous intent to bury his head in a toilet.

...It only occurred to me later that Dash turned me into an absolute hypocrite.

* * *

**There were TWO endings for this one. They proposed two completely different moods at the end, to such an extent that the other ending has a different title 'Rumors'. I'm posting the other on dA because I liked it, too. =3 And total thanks to Amazing Bluie for the summary and his patience with pulling up new ones while I sat there and rejected almost everything he came up with till it was perfect. XD**

**Here is a link to dA (same routine, get rid of those pesky spaces) catalystofthesoul . deviantart . com / art / DP-Rumors-133479807**

**~Catalyst**


	24. Where The Heart Is

**A/N: It takes place in absolute future and is also slightly AU. This is kinda a fic request for Donteatacowman, kinda my minds crazed ramblings...**

**Disclaimer: ...I. I do. I do not. I do not own. I do not own it.**

* * *

**  
Where The Heart Is  
**

* * *

Danny swirled, casually dodging every shot. "Come on, Jack, you're getting rusty."

Jack scowled, pulling out a second power cube for his weapon. "Hold your horses, I just need a bit more."

"Those energy cubes are running out fast." Phantom commented, drifting lazily to the top of a lamppost above Jack. "Do you need me to re-charge any?"

"I don't think they have anymore charges left in them…" Jack mumbled, tripping over the switch and dropping the previous cracked and dull cube to the ground in favor a slightly brighter one.

Danny dove immediately to retrieve it, carefully looking over the item. "I think that fall broke this one."

"How would you know?" Jack snapped, yanking the thing away from his adversary. The cube easily broke in half from the slightest amount of pressure and Phantom was left giggling, holding half of an oozing power source.

"We broke it."

Jack blinked sadly, tossing what remnant he had over his shoulder. "I said they didn't have any charges left in them, didn't I?"

Phantom nodded. "You did."

"Good." Jack said, pulling up his gun to face Phantom. "Now don't you dare move, spook."

Danny poked at the weapon cautiously. "You sure you used the right polarity?"

"How should I know?" The old man grumbled, firing. The gun buckled and clicked in a straining fashion, and a bit of smoke popped out of the side as the ecto pistol gave up. Its firing chamber didn't even spark.

Danny laughed, "Here, let me try." Tugging it out of Jacks hand Danny curiously popped open the battery compartment. "See?" He stated, pointing at it. "I was right, Jack, the polarity _is_ off."

His father chuckled, "I guess it is, spook. Thanks."

"Anytime, sir." Danny handed it back so Jack could fix up the weapon on his own.

"Sir." Jack repeated, "I like that. Living kids these days never say 'sir' anymore."

"I don't think the dead ones do it, either." Danny commented, hovering cross-legged in the air. "In fact, I think they're worse than the living ones."

Jack shook his had, "Have you met my boy, Danny? Well, not you Danny, my son Danny. He never said sir. Just called me dad. And I called him son."

"I think I've met him," Phantom rubbed at the back of his neck, "Haven't seen him around, though, Jack."

"No, no, you haven't…" Jack trailed off into a painful memory. "He died, spook, he died thirty years ago."

Phantom stared at his fingers in a similar, drawn out picture of pain. "I'm sorry, sir. Maybe I do know him. I might have met him, you know, in the Ghost Zone. How old was he? Maybe I've met him."

"My Danny was seventeen years old, spook. And he wouldn't want to be like you. I know my Danny. He wouldn't want to be a ghost." Jack smiled, lost in memory. "He liked you though, ghost. He knew you. He liked you a lot."

"Did he?" Phantom asked, floating on his back. "That's nice to know… It's nice when people like me. Did you like me, Jack?"

Jack laughed, replacing the compartment that closed off his battery from the world. "No, spook, I don't. I think you need to go home."

The elder brought up his weapon at the frozen teen. "I think you need to go home, spook."

Danny cocked his head to the side. "But I am home, Jack. I am home."

Jack fired at Phantom, but the ghost easily moved out of the way. Jack slumped a little. "I think these power cubes are out, too."

Once more, Danny landed softly on the ground. "Let me help you."

"Why?"

"Because I help my neighbors." Danny smiled.

"Why?" Jack persisted, resting his muscles against the side of the wall.

"Because I help my family."

Jack frowned. "But why are we family?"

"Because we're home, Jack." Danny pointed to the front door of Fenton Works. "There are batteries in there, Jack. Let's go get some."

Jack nodded, slowly tottering up the steps. "Maddie never let me bring spooks in the house."

"I know, Jack," Danny replied gently. "Maddie's gone, Jack."

"Jazz?"

Phantom opened the door. "Jazz is gone too, Jack."

"Who do I have left, then?" Jack asked, obediently tromping inside.

Phantom carefully clicked the door closed behind them. "We have each other left, Jack."

"Oh," The old man replied, "Oh…but I'm not going to be here forever, am I?"

"No, Jack." Danny said, drifting over to clear a space on the couch for his father.

Jack wandered over to the seat, pawing at the old living room table for a battery. "Will you be here forever, spook?"

"No."

He sighed. "Why?"

"Because, Jack, I have to stay with my home." Danny said patiently, selecting a relatively glowing power charge out of the clutter and handing it to his father.

Jack carefully lifted the lid of his battery cage and began to switch them out. "But I thought your home is here."

Danny patted his father's shoulder. "No, Jack. Home is where your heart is."

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**Twisted, slightly fluffy, yet sad insanity. X3**

**To Amazing Bluie, who spent at least an hour arguing over the summary with me, I thank profoundly.**

**~Catalyst**


	25. A Story of His Own

**Howdy ya'll!  
**

**Disclaimer: Well, I certainly only own the words below, but nothing they describe. ^^**

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**A Story Of His Own**

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Danny blinked, rereading the paragraph after realizing that for the past few sections, he hadn't absorbed a word. He hastily scrawled a few notes on Bacon's Rebellion and something about William Berkley.

He chewed at the middle of his pencil, feeling the wood give way by a tiny amount when his teeth dug in hard enough to create dents. He ran his tongue over fractions of its splintered wood, wondering if it was the soft lead contained inside or the quality of the utensil's wood that made it cave under such easy pressure.

Danny shook his head and tried to bring his eyes back to _America: Past and Present _by _Robert A. Devine_. But his mind just wasn't in it. Hours of reading and taking notes on, literally, one of the drabbest books known to man; and he had taken in none of it. Danny scowled and pushed the book away with a growl of disgust. "Five minutes. That's all I get," he promised himself, standing.

The library was incredibly empty. To be fair, it _was_ Saturday. At noon. In the middle of summer. Danny rubbed his neck and wondered, again, how on _Earth_ his sister had managed to talk him into taking AP—practically a college course for high schoolers.

He knew why, of course. Nothing else in the world would have convinced him beyond this—his parents expected him to acquire higher education. He, on the other hand, did not even have a faint desire to throw himself into that much work. Hunting ghosts and scraping C's in English was challenging enough, but _college_? Keeping the town safe and college didn't mix.

So, hence the great compromise. "_Take Advanced Placement classes, get some extra college credits, and that way when they hear the news they can be under the impression you've still gained some serious life skills and you will have therefore lessened the blow astronomically_." Danny pushed the memory of Jazz's clearly memorized speech out of his head. It was still unfair that she hadn't mentioned the summer projects.

Danny wandered around the library, nodding to a lone receptionist as he passed and making his slow way to the ever popular (and, as far as he could tell, empty) fiction section. "_The Bard of Cursed Relics_," Danny read aloud, lifting an eyebrow. "I'm sure _everyone_ knows what bard means…?"

"Of course they know," a familiar voice echoed smoothly from behind.

A little late, Danny felt his ghost sense trigger. He spun and glared at the Ghost Writer. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"Perusing," the Ghost writer replied with a smile, pulling a book off the shelf. "I like to visit the library; normally it's less offensive to me than any other place." The Writer pushed up his glasses, allowing a pile of floating books to pull from the shelves next to him. "I did not think I would find you here, ghost boy."

Danny cursed the thermos in his backpack, miles away on a desk in the nonfiction section. "Are you going to fight, or what?"

"I thought we settled that spat?" Ghost Writer asked, his face the picture of polite surprise. "I am not here to terrorize the town. I'm here to benefit from it; surely you are not the Antagonist?"

"Antagonist…?" Danny mumbled.

Ghost Writer laughed a little. "As you are not familiar with a bard—which, by the way, means a poet, the antagonist of a story is generally the 'bad' guy."

"Why am I the bad guy?" Danny snapped, his shortened temper more than happy to find a target.

Ghost Writer cocked his head to the side. "Kicking me out of the town for going to the library would define the unjust act of a tyrant. But, I guess, it would make sense with the usual traffic you get…" He considered for a moment, eyes turning over various inspirational ideas, "Danny, may I ask your permission to come to the library?"

Danny took a baffled step back. "Huh?"

"I would like your permission, as guardian of this place, for me to visit the library on purely benevolent purposes." The Writer nodded to himself. "That sounds official; a quote from _Images into Unseen Times,_ by the twice dead writer Elizabeth Cornelius Rune." He chuckled, "Of course, I tweaked it with the word 'library' in place of 'lair'."

"Riiight…" Danny said, not entirely sure if most of that was meant for him. "You want to come to the library? Sure, why should I care about this place?" Danny inspected the Writer, wondering if he should be feeling any alarm bells right about now, "Just don't cause any trouble or I'll throw you back for good."

The Ghost Writer had a creeping look of horror entering his eyes. "I thank you for the permission, but…_did you just say you don't care what happens to this place?!_" He spoke the last sentence in a harsh, accusing whisper.

Danny rolled his eyes. "It's a library, full of evil text books like the one by _Robert A. Divine_ over there," he gestured with a thumb to the far away desk containing his summer history assignment.

The Ghost Writer _tsk_ed, "There are plenty of books you would find interesting, young hybrid."

"Like what? _The Bard of Cursed Relics_?" Danny retorted.

"Infinite realms, no." Ghost writer laughed, "That book is based on historic fiction; you just shuddered when mentioning a work of _Robert A. Divine_. It would not interest you in the least."

The teen rubbed his forehead and glanced at his watch. He'd been away from his work fifteen minutes. So much for staying on task… "So what would interest me?"

"'If you do not speak of him, he will not listen.'" The Ghost Writer quoted obediently. "You want a book written about you. A sort of…fanfiction."

Danny rubbed the back of his neck, "No offense, but you're little _Fright Before Christmas_ isn't something I'm too fond of."

Ghost Writer continued to compile books into an independently floating stack, "You are very popular Danny; you've inspired many writers to lift the pen. Would you like me to give you a copy of a very well done work? Mind, it's fiction, and rated for a more mature audience than your school might allow—but it isn't so vulgar to be labeled an 'adult' novel."

"It's about me?" Danny asked cautiously.

Ghost Writer placed two supporting arms underneath his tottering mountain of books. "Would you like to read it?"

"…Sure…"

The Ghost Writer began to walk away, and just as he turned the corner of shelves he began to totter in a way that suggested 'human'. His glow even managed to dim a bit. A book fell from the top of his pile and landed with a thud onto the floor.

"Hold on!" Danny said, scooping up the item and following around the corner—

To find that he was alone in the library with the receptionist. Danny fiddled with the thing in his hands, glancing down to find it was not a real book at all. It was, in fact, a little red notebook, torn, burned, and with a few stains that looked suspiciously like faintly glowing blood. Inside, there were a few inserted pages that contrasted by way of notebook to printed paper. Within the bent spiral was a tiny pencil stub.

Danny squinted at the water-stained title and read the cover out loud: "_Pits_; A Danny Phantom fanfic by _Cordria_."

Curious, he flipped to the first page…

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**First of all, those of you haven't read Cordria's _'Pits' _****you **might **not be laughing as hysterically as I am. (Because I'm thinking Danny's going to need a trip to the therapist after that...or, you know, twenty three.) But it's all a matter of perspective. ;)**

**Anywho, the title was a run off of 'A League of Their Own' that my outstanding editor Amazing Bluie came up with, but it had nothing to do with the fic at all other than Danny get's a 'story of his own'. Ahahaha. By the way, if you're bored out of your mind and have the time, go ahead and drop the Amazing Bluie a PM and a thanks! XD My stories would FAIL without him. **

**I know I wanted to say something else... oh, yeah! No stealy my cover description if you're doing Cori's contest. ;) I've got plans for it.**

**Thanks for readin', ya'll, I'm off to bake some cookies! ***mutters*** Now what do I use the flour for...?  
~Catalyst**


	26. Ideas

**This fic written in pure dedication to my editor, Amazing Bluie. =) Who didn't edit this… :p Had to keep it quiet till I posted, ya know? XD The title is as uninspired as my sister's favorite rap music.  
**

**Disclaimer: Looky here, it says in my papers that is simply impossible for me to own it. Now, if you don't mind, I'm off to find out what these papers are and what they're for...0.o**

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**Ideas

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I typed faster than usual, fingers seeming to fly across the keyboard with expert skill. Nanoseconds after hitting enter, I switched to another tab in time to rap the arrow keys, narrowly missing a stray asteroid.

The grin that flicked its way across my lips could have been described as malicious. Personally, I liked the term feral. But nobody uses that word enough for it to match their descriptions of my face at that time. I swiveled my ship, eyes scanning the surrounding space for any of those pesky little aliens that wanted to take my points.

I demolished a tiny catch of them before returning to my previous tab, continued another sentence, and was back to my ship controls.

He walked up to me laughing, "Not even going to bother with shooting the rocks apart?" He _tsk_ed jokingly, "Techno geek."

I smiled, taking a moment to glance from my computer to watch him plop down next to me. "And proud, mind."

"Of course." My best friend muttered, rolling his eyes. "Did you finish that research paper yet?"

"We have another week," I responded, concentrating on my screen's next challenge of asteroid fields. "What makes you think I've started?"

He blinked, "The fact that we have to put _hours_ of work into the research itself, and then have to write seven pages minimum on it, that's what."

The level ended, once again proclaiming my name as the sole high score. No one else could come close. I chuckled, "Then the pressure's on. Who will win, I wonder?"

My best friend shook his head, "Then what was it you were typing?"

"Nothing really, just adding some formulas to that theory you had on the Ghost Zone." I leaned back in my chair, smug.

His eyebrows rocketed up into his black bangs, as I knew they would. "Seriously? Already? It was just an idea…"

I nodded. "Oh, of course it was. But nothing's better than a little last second twists." I tapped a knuckle against the echoing screen, "By the way I see it we can test your idea tomorrow."

He grinned and rubbed at his neck. "Sounds like a plan."

"Want to take a look at it?" I offered, "I tweaked the concept a little."

He lifted up his shoulders, "You know I can't understand any of the heavy equations. I'm just the idea guy," He smiled a little, "But I'd like to know what you tweaked."

"Well, you suggested that maybe we could use the portal as an energy source to make a ghost more human." I brought up, standing and snagging my backpack.

He followed suit, nodding. I couldn't hold back the excited note in my voice, "I kind of turned it around a bit—what if we did it to make a _human_ more _ghost_?"

He laughed heartily, "Vlad, you have some of the craziest ideas…tell me more!"

Feeling heartened, I walked out of the library elaborating on its possibilities, informing him what needed to be done in order for us to perform the 'Ghost Zone Experiment' tomorrow.

It never occurred to me we'd need a human test subject.

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**Short, sweet, and to the point. I wanted to hold it out longer but couldn't find a way for that to flow, so…^^ Yayz!**

**To Amazing Bluie: Did I get you with a little surprise? I just don't think I've written enough of Vlad… As for you wonderful readers, ya'll should tackle him with thanks… ;)**

**~Catalyst**

**p.s I have nothing against Rap, it's just the songs my sister listens to in that genre have to do with nothing but..._suggestive_ things...  
**


	27. Blood Drive

**It's Angst Day! I'm falling over right now--I totally forgot it! Thank goodness I have a few oneshots sitting around in my folders all over the place...I never would have posted this, because it felt OOC and was derived from my delusional insanity after giving blood for the first time. Have fun! Happy Angst Day!**

**p.s. For those of you watching my Doctor Who/Danny Phantom crossover, Boxed Time, I'm so sorry for forgetting this week's update, but I've been _BEYOND _busy and will have to continue my weekly updates Monday. Don't kill me!

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**Blood Drive

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"Danny."

"No."

"…Danny."

"Not in a million years," I growled, refusing to look at her.

Mom sighed and knelt down next to me. "Danny, honey, this is necessary."

I kicked at the resounding table, crossing my arms stubbornly. "I'm not going to. Do your little chemical reaction thingy or whatever it was you did for me last time. I refuse to give _my_ lifeblood to that…that…Frootloop!" I sputtered.

Maddie straightened. "He needs it—we don't have time to create a revenue of ectoplasmicaly-infused blood, Danny!"

I jumped to my feet, "Why should I _care_?!"

Mom went cold, her face hardening into a furious mask. I had to push away the slight tingle of fear running up my spine—mom wasn't a person anybody wanted to see angry. "It's unethical. We can't let anyone die when they can be saved." Maddie spoke in a freezing, measured tone.

"He just tried to kill dad," I retorted, unable to keep a spark of green from flaring in my eyes. "Now you want me to save _him_?" I scoffed, the frustration in my veins flowing faster. "No."

"Danny!" Mom snapped.

"You're going to have to force me," I glowered, taking a look across the lab to glare pointedly at my unconscious enemy.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see mom start to pull something out of her belt. _Darn it_. She'd taken me seriously. Tapping into my energy stores, I teleported to the other side of the room, scowling. Mom swirled, searching for my invisible body.

Her goggles had short circuited an hour ago during battle, so there was no way she could see me bending over to inspect Vlad's drained face. I shook my head and let out the quietest of chuckles. "Looks like the end of the line for you, Frootloop." I whispered.

He twitched marginally, managing to open one unbandaged eye. Vlad inspected me carefully, sleep clearly dragging at him. I allowed a small, untamed smile in greeting. He winced. "You…" He could barely talk above the lab's usual technological buzz. "…look like me." My jaw fell, rage from our fight still rupturing inside. "That's not the Danny I…" Vlad tried to bring his lips against his next words, failed, and tried again. "Not you," Vlad mumbled, relaxing back into unconsciousness. "Not you…" he trailed again, falling out.

I blinked, bitter hatred pouring off of me in waves. Dad was currently with Jazz in an _ambulance_, being rushed to the emergency room, and he has the guts to go off and say something like that.

I wanted nothing more than to crack his jaw. His blood-stained…cut…faintly glowing…jaw… I bit my lip, conflicted.

_Dad's in the hospital…_ A monumental amount of fire screamed at that thought; only to be squashed by the next. _But _he'll_ live._

In front of me, draining slowly, Vlad lay helpless on a lab table. Mom's quick bandages proving not enough. The tiny supply of my own 'plasmic' blood, created by various other donations and then infused with ectoplasm over a course of time, wilting too quickly.

_"…look like me."_

I sighed, feeling the collapse of a wall I resented oh so much inside. I hated him. Hatred strong enough to kill. But…not like this. If…if anything I'd at least want him to…die…_alone_. Feeling like the last word was misplaced, but appeased by it; I spared my arch enemy a withering glare, allowing my body to return to the visible world.

Too soon mom's hand found my shoulder. With an angry huff, I spun, not allowing Vlad another look. "The needle bettered be sterile," I muttered.

"Thank you," Maddie said, a tiny smile gracing her features for the first time all day.

My eyes tightened, "For helping the Frootloop?"

Mom pulled up a chair and indicated me to sit. "No. For not making a choice you would regret."

"That's just it," I deflated, "I'm not so sure there was a choice to make here that I _wouldn't_ regret…"

From the corner of my vision, I could see Vlad's mouth twitch.

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**Snaps for unoriginal titles! Yay! I forgot the disclaimer earlier...I own nothing but the words spilling off of my pen in hurried, illegible bouts.**

**Happy Angst Day!**

**~Catalyst**


	28. Security Concerns

**For Genuka! We all have bad days...random oneshots do the trick. ;)**

**Disclaimer: Not in a box. Not with a fox. Not in a house. Not with a mouse. I would not own it here or there. I would not own it anywhere. I would not own Danny Phantom. I do not wish to, Sam-I-am.**

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**Security** **Concerns**

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I flipped through more data, growling in frustration. "He _had_ to have...but, he couldn't! No, there is no way...unless..."

Danny entered the lab and set down the requested water _Jazz_ was supposed to be bringing. "What are you working on, mom?" he asked innocently.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" I countered, lifting an eyebrow.

He blushed faintly. "I need to build up my strength, don't I? Besides," my son dropped down next to me, "I've been staring at my ceiling for _days_. At this point, I need a change of environment."

"So you don't die of boredom?" I drolled, thinking of the stacks of comic books Tucker had brought over yesterday for Danny to combine with Sam's mountain of movies.

He laughed with a little indescribable edge behind it. "Not exactly." Danny snagged my water and took a sip, setting it back in front of me. "Vlad gone?"

"Yes," I answered awkwardly.

"He try anything?" Danny casually leaned back, but I could tell by his tense shoulders the question was everything but casual.

I placed a reassuring hand on his back, "Nothing."

"Were you looking for it?" Danny pushed.

I shrugged, "He just saved your life, Danny, I don't think now's the time to be questioning his actions. Vlad left very tired and—"

"Don't give him pity," my boy grumbled. "Please, mom. Gratitude's fine, I guess. But don't stoop to _that_."

If I were in normal parent mode, I would have rebutted him for using that tone of voice with me. But, in matters concerning Vlad, it got different. Danny had learned things I would have preferred he never knew, things _I_ would be happier not knowing, and I had to cut him some slack. There was no reason for Danny to start liking Vlad now.

...Although, _tolerance_ would be nice. Danny seemed to have an extraordinary difficulty withholding a glare whenever the billionaire was around. Not that I blame him--when Vlad was under the impression no one else but my boy was looking (Danny seldom took his eyes off the man, as if it's dangerous to let him out of his sight) Vlad would cast him a feral smirk.

Danny always reacted the same way to that look. He would bar his teeth and backtrack a step, feet falling into what I immediately recognized as a combat stance, though where Danny could've learned it baffles me. The electricity in the air became so thick then that even Jack slowed in his babbling, if only for a heartbeat.

My son pulled a sheet of paper from under my hands. "You never seemed this curious about my work," I noted, pulling my mind into a simpler subject.

He flashed a grin at me. "With what just happened? How can I not be interested? Is there anything here on Par—the king ghost?"

I pursed my lips, ignoring the stutter of speech as a nickname the kids must have come up with. "Actually, it has barely anything to do with him," I noted, pointing down at my notes to the constantly re-appearing name. "Inviso-Bill, or I guess now he changed his name to Danny Phantom..."

"I think that's always been his name," Danny mumbled, spots of red coloring his cheeks.

"Your father and I preferred Inviso-Bill," My fingers playful pushed hair out of his face. "We already have a Danny."

A trickle of laughter escaped my boy. "Y—yeah, that makes...sense...what about him?"

I rolled my eyes. Right to the point. "I got a call from Damon Gray. You know his daughter Valerie, right? She'd claimed that Inviso-Bill was inside of our ghost shield."

Danny's head snapped up. "No," he claimed. "Valerie was probably lying—we have no idea how hard her head was hit out there, it's not like her words mean anything."

"It's not a matter of her credibility," I responded, befuddled. "It's security—I've asked around and there are reports, albeit few, that say this ghost was _definitely_ within our shield. Now all I have to find out is if somebody let him in or...if he's powerful enough to temporarily break through a class A shield."

"Didn't that one wolf thing break through a shield once? From the Fenton RV?" Danny asked, fidgeting. "If that one could do it why not, uh, Phantom?"

"That was a class C shield. It had an independent, small power source." I frowned at the memory, "That could be broken through with a little added force by the ghost. But a class _A_ shield?" I shook my head. "It would place this ghost's power at a much higher level than that ghost king sucking our town into an alternate dimension. It could potentially mark Phantom as the greatest threat this planet has ever seen."

"How?"

"A class A shield has two power supplies: That of the city and a large back-up generator," I explained, pointing to a bulky hunk of metal off to the side, "It had enough juice to keep out not only every ghost from their world, but it managed to block the Ghost Zone's own wild and varying temperatures while we were inside."

"And that would mean...?" Danny trailed, clearly interested.

I patted the ectopistol at my waste, "It would mean it's time for us to redouble our hunting efforts."

Danny flinched. "But—wait, we don't need to jump to that. He just saved the town, what—"

"Trick." I cut off.

"—if somebody let him in?" Danny finished hastily.

"Into the shield?" I allowed every ounce of skepticism I had drip into my voice. "Danny, I don't think you're all that ready to be out of bed."

My son shrugged, inspecting the notes splayed across our table, "What if somebody let him in? It would make sense. I mean...um, _Inviso-Bill_ can't be that powerful."

"It's a possibility," I caved, allowing the idea to play in my mind for a bit, "There were quite a number of people down in the lab around the right time, I guess. It wouldn't be hard for one to let down the shield for a moment..."

Danny deflated and laid his head on his palms. "Probably."

I stood and offered a hand to Danny, "You need to get back upstairs and lay down, okay honey? You're still a little out of it."

Ignoring my offered assistance, Danny shakily got up and started for the stairway. "Maybe we should give Danny Phantom a rest, mom. He just might deserve it," he called over his shoulder, trudging up the steps.

"The only one needing a rest here is you," I called back. "And I'm serious—no video games. Take a nap!" I heard an out-of-sight whine from him before the door clicked shut.

I was alone.

A sigh escaped my lips, and I returned to my work. _Maybe somebody let him in_. I picked up a pen and idly twisted it between my fingers, allowing my eyes to flick towards the closed door. _Danny_...what made him come up with that? Was it possible that _he_...?

No, Danny knew very well the dangers of this ghost, no matter its intentions. ...Still, I hadn't really given much credit to the thought of someone actually letting the ghost in. But now that Danny had brought it back up, it refused to go away—it made more logical sense then just busting through a class A shield.

The question now was, who? Danny's tired face came back to mind, tugging a few notes out of my hand. He keeps getting more and more interested in the research done down in the lab. But I have yet to see him with anything more threatening than a Fenton Thermos...

My eyes tracked over a set of scribbles, an odd word popping out at me. _Inviso-Bill is occasionally spotted with a stolen Fenton Thermos_. I chewed my lip. Danny left me with a strikingly pro-Phantom comment. Perhaps...it was possible Danny _had_ allowed Inviso-Bill inside of the ghost shield? The thought hit me as so silly I couldn't suppress a chuckle. _Preposterous_.

But, still...

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**...My editor added the cliffie. Blame him. (Is it just me, or do I say something like 'blame the editor' evrey chapter?) XD**

**~Catalyst**


	29. Fatal Committee

**XD Sorry guys, I've been uber busy working on Boxed Time (between homework) but I've been unable to get it up. I hvae an interview for Rotary Youth Exchange today so part Seven will have to wait yet another day...as a for of greoveling and sorry, here's a little oneshot I've been saving.**

**Disclaimer: Why do sparrows love the snow? I will know when I own Danny Phantom.**

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**Fatal Committee**

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I folded my arms and leaned back, listening as many of my fellows agreed to the argument. Something inside of me was stirring, but I knew the importance of patience and waited for the right moment.

I caught Poindexter's shifting eyes from across the room and lifted an eyebrow. He shrugged in discomfort, clearly not as happy as Vortex was.

Nocturne finished his powerful speech and settled back down, cold eyes searching for anyone who defied him. He was the tenth and, thankfully, last ghost to place heavy grievances on this subject today. No one else looked like they needed to add to Nocturne's words—they were, after all, quite convincing.

I gracefully managed to stand up, ignoring a few sharp glares. I made it clear the very first day I didn't like where this was going. But today was when I would state my case. "The 'problem' we seem to be addressing...if it can even be considered that," I began carefully, "is that of Danny Phantom's actions towards our presence within the town of Amity Park."

Ember rolled her eyes. "Cut to the chase," she snapped out in frustration. Everyone was a little disgruntled after days of arguing, a reason why I chose now to get at them—while their minds were a little less set on one opinion.

"I would like to bring your attention to your lairs," I continued, as if there was no interruption. "As you all know, I reside within one of our more spacious libraries. None enters without my said permission or, as they know by law of the Ghost Zone, I am allowed to lay punishment. Trespassing is a serious issue."

Spectra growled in frustration, "Ghost Writer, don't go off topic. As you should remember that, by _law,_ in any central ghost meeting we have the right to punish _you_ for trailing off on other subjects."

"A reason why I am not going to bring up the time you stole into my home for, what was it, _fire starters_?" I bit out, eyes flaring. "This is also not an official ghost meeting because you have not invited everyone involved. Don't think I have missed the conspicuous absence of those of the Far Frozen, Wulf, the lady Dora and her people, and Pandora when they are as directly involved with our argument as everyone else present."

Amorpho, next to me, nodded. "I believe we should hear him out, Spectra." The other ghost drawled casually, tipping his hat towards me in faint respect.

I pushed my spectacles up smartly, unable to swallow a feral grin. There were more supporters in here than I had originally thought. "As I said, bring your attention to your lairs. Danny Phantom, too, has a lair that he has deemed to protect." There was a flicker of unrest around me, but I blundered on, "Under Ghost Zone law we are not to intrude on lairs without permission—"

Walker stood up so fast his chair clattered to the floor, "The human realm is fair game and you _know_ that, Writer!" he glowered. "There's nothing against the rules about that world concerning entrance, never has been, never will be."

"But consider the circumstances—"

"Circumstances don't matter, that's law." Walker spit.

I shuddered, clear memory of my imprisonment with Walker running into mind. But I had to press on. "Danny's not entirely a ghost," I said, getting on with it. "He's also human, and therefore should be allowed to extend his lair outside the Ghost Zone. In the case of Plasmius, we never entered through _his_ portal. Why—"

"Plasmius doesn't count, dearie," the Lunch lady cut in softly. "He was too much trouble to fight past; and besides, there were never many humans near that exit. Phantom," her voice grew hard and loud, eyes and hair flaring, "holds a steadily growing city of meat from us!"

I sighed, "Fine then, if you will not bear in mind his human half—which is just as important as the ghost, mind you—then will you please think of what he did for our world in general?"

"We've discussed that stupid asteroid," Skulker muttered, "And we've come to the conclusion that we have no debt to pay him—we did most of the work, after all."

Johnny 13, presumably asleep until now, hesitantly lifted his head, "That's not the only time. Once I helped the kid to keep some sort of ghost-destroying stuff from coming in here. Youngblood was there."

The child-pirate scoffed, "We don't know what that stuff was _or_ what it would do. For all we know it could have been a...a...what's the word?"

"Hoax?" Youngblood's trusted bird offered, bored.

The boy grinned, "Yeah, a hoax!"

I brushed a hand through my hair, "What about Pariah Dark?"

"What about him?" Prince Aragon countered shortly. He had become far more surly after his exile from the nearby medieval kingdom.

"Phantom managed to lock him away," I shrugged. "Do we not owe any gratitude to that?"

Tuffs of laughter came from Technus, "Gratitude? I thought Plasmius was the one who sealed the Coffin of Forever Sleep."

"The halfa fought him," Poindexter countered. "Plasmius just closed it. Danny did all the hard work."

"Because we helped," Ember scowled. "Not to mention that suit. We don't owe him for that, anyway—he didn't do it for us, but for his precious _town_."

"Does it matter who he did it for?" I snapped, turning on her. "He still stood up and did the work, while we sat by and cowered like injured pups—there was no way we could have won without the _support_ of Danny Phantom."

Ember rocketed to her feet, "I thought you considered yourself a neutral party when it came to the Dipstick!" She glared evenly at me, "You don't care about him—the only thing that bothers you about this is what we intend to do about him!"

"Prove it!" I rebutted, hands taking on a purple color. "You're all speaking nonsense—you have drunk from the insane root and have lost your minds! We can't do this!"

"There is no law against it!" Walker shouted, taking hold of my collar and dragging me away from Ember. "We're perfectly allowed to—"

"To what?!" In a burst of violet light his hands were off of me. I was aware of only the fact that my pupils had vanished, and that my body was vibrating a dangerous shade. "_To_ _kill_?!"

Poindexter and a few others froze in their race to come to my side, all of those opposed that were prepping for a battle stopped in their tracks. My anger was the only swiftly racing tension left within the room. "_You remember what it feels like to truly die_," I growled, my voice so constrained and heavy laden with emotion that I was surprised it managed to carry so well. "_And now you wish to pass on the favor to a boy?_ **_Pathetic. Simply and clearly pathetic._**"

I growled, and the nearest desk splintered. **"You keep thinking that 'getting rid' of his human half and _forcing_ the boy to live within the Zone as a ghost is not only a help for yourselves, but a favor to him! Tell me,"** I turned to Skulker, **"Are you willing to actually take a _life_? Something you can't replace? Something that won't regenerate after the hunt? Could you honestly do it—remembering your own death?"**

I pointed an accusing finger at all of the pale faces I could find, **"Pariah Dark never stooped so low. You're nothing but animals—_monsters_. This is proof!"**

A trickle of cool air touched my neck, but I ignored it."Proof that we're nothing more than beasts! _We deserve to be hated._"My voice had fallen to a harsh whisper, a murmur heard around the realms.

Silence.

I took a deep, condensing breath, returning to stand in front of my seat, "It doesn't matter what I think of Danny Phantom or what he's done. This isn't about him." With all the dignity I could muster, I plopped back down.

There was a moment, perhaps of three seconds, before I felt a rupture of rage, agony, bitterness, and fear explode over my head. After that, I didn't have time to move as the tempest snapped toward its target.

Me.

* * *

**This is one of those stories where the writer decides to be evil and make you think to discover the what and why. ^^ In cases like this, it's best to let the writer live, despite your decision to just take it out on said author rather than analyze. **

**I'm in an English class mood, so here are some analyzing questions to ask, _if_ you're interested: Why did the ghosts get angry at this?  
What did GW mean by 'this isn't about him'?  
Did the ghosts just attack, or did they start to shout?  
Why was there a mix of "rage, agony, bitterness, and fear"?  
What words did GW use to cause those emotions?  
Did the Ghost Writer know he'd get this type of reaction?  
If yes, why did the GW say it? If no, what was GW trying to get out of them?  
Why on Earth (or, alternatley, the Ghost Zone) would the concept of death frighten a ghost?**

**Now, if you don't mind, I must flee! I just had these questions running in my head and HAD to voice them. ;) Feel free to ignore. Better yet, feel free to answer!  
****~Catalyst**

**p.s. Thanks Amazing Bluie, for editing...again...**


	30. Mesmeric Revelation

**Happy Halloween! (I'm dressed up in a five minute put together rag-tag Clockwork cosplay. XD The scar and copious amounts of purple make me giggle.)**

**Disclaimer: I really don't own the characters... =3**

**Summary: My world is spinning...no, _literally_, it's spinning.  
**

* * *

**Mesmeric Revelation**

* * *

I sat in marginal discomfort, using a slowly depleting supply of energy to keep my little rock from floating away from this perch. It was interesting, watching as Earth glowed brilliantly in reflected sunlight. From this distance one could easily see the planet's graceful spin.

It was the perfect place to be, filled with rich air, tilted at an axial point to create seasons for all to love and things to grow and die with.

Out here? There was nothing. Barren, stripped raw, empty. And cold. So cold.

There was another weak, although cheery, beep from my helmet. It was running out of juice. Which would mean that this helmet that I had designed to keep a pocket of air and recycle was about to become useless. I sighed, there had to be from hours to minutes left.

The lack of food my ghost half took in stride. I could hardly feel the physical cold in this form—ecto freeze was all that ever changed my core temperature. The need for atmospheric pressure? Please, like that'd ever become necessary.

But air? Ho, the fault of a hybrid. I guess now I'd get to test that ten minute length before my lungs begin to shriek. My last experiment. For some reason, it doesn't feel as dramatic as I would have liked it to be.

Where was the orchestra of violins? Where were the people who would react with loss? Where were the people to react _at all_? I always preferred the thought of dying alone. But then, I would have been missed. By both the living and the dead—they would all hear of me going, and every single one of them has been given a reason to care. (_Most not a __good _reason, but who's counting?)

Here? Not a soul will know of my passing. No one will care. They'll all be on that planet, happy and filling their head with precious, enriched air.

I'm not even going to go out with a bang.

Daniel…was right. "_You'll be bitter and alone for the rest of your life, unless if you agree to a truce." _Well, boy, are you happy? I'm bitter, alone, and I never backed down. It's been that way since the day you said that. And you know what?!

I wouldn't take back a day. Not. One. _Second_.

Daniel, the noble one. Who's noble now? I'd rather die than change who I was to fit the attitude of the world. And I'm proud of it.

My helmet beeped again, and I chuckled. I am going to die, and no one's going to care.

Perhaps I _will_ want to take back a few seconds after all. Just to take the time, such precious little time, for someone to miss my presence.

Too late now, of course.

A frantic sputter of beeps cascaded around my ears—cutting off sharply in the middle of one last mournful keen. I breathed my last fistful of clean air slowly, savoring it's stale taste.

_This...is the End_.

I couldn't quite believe it, yet. What would happen when my lungs gave out? Would I simply lose my human half and become all ghost? Or would I die...and that would be it?

For some reason, my mind pushed to a fact it seemed to already know. There would be no surviving. I wouldn't make it to full ghost—I would die, here, now, and forever.

And no one was going to care.

Black spots flecked, slowly at first, then steadily expanding, over my tired eyes. I caught a glimpse of my planet before everything went black.

My world was spinning.

I could feel it—my heart caving vigorously into death. A twitch of the foot here, relaxing muscles all around...and, for some reason, an odd sense of presence nearby. Divinity? _Wonderful_, I thought bitterly, _He's going to send me _straight _to Hell._

True to that thought a hot pain seared through my body, wrecking havoc on every molecule. I winced, feeling my lip twist in pain.

How is it I can still feel my body? It had to be an illusion. I was dead. There was no other explanation for what I was feeling.

Something nicked my chin and I received a vague mental image of my helmet being pulled off. _Curiosity killed that cat_, I thought timidly, and peeked just a little.

Brilliant green eyes inspected me carefully. "Vlad?" The creature asked.

"God?" I muttered incredulously.

His face lit in a smile, "You're completely out of it, Frootloop."

_As it was, curiosity did, indeed, kill the cat. But I believe I forgot to mention that _satisfaction _brought it back._

_

* * *

_

**=3 Love this holiday. And the scar under my eye. *happy* I wanted a..._good _ending this time. Not something angsty—a happy one. :] So I saved Vlad's life. Yay!  
**

**~Catalyst**

**p.s. About the title...last Halloween I used Poe's 'The Masque Of The Red Death', so this time I'm using his 'Mesmeric Revalation' story title. It's about a conversation with a hypnotized dying man. XP Fitting, eh?  
**


	31. Payment

**A/N: Found this in an old folder, edited a little, decided to post...my personal editor, Amazing Bluie, hasn't touched it. XD Hehe...so he gets to enjoy something new too! (This is better than arguing over Boxed Time, right AB?)  
**

**Disclaimer: Yadda, yadda, you know the drill.**

* * *

**Payment**

* * *

I tapped my fingers against the seat, checking over the entire machine for any scratches or marks, "Perfect." I whispered in awe, leaning closer, "It's so _perfect_."

"I am aware." It replied monotonously.

I glanced at it, my eyes—so expert in sizing up just any and everyone I came across—were at a loss of what to think of _it_. It had no stable form—flickering from body to item, a child, a machine, a blazing light, a wall, a blob of green, a mouth, an eye, a key, an old man, wind…all so fast that one could seldom pick out the unnatural images compared to the familiar.

Its voice never changed from that of complete neutrality, "Give me fifty."

"That's it?" I wondered, eyebrows peaking in surprise, "Fifty for the whole thing?"

"It is perfect. You act unhappy."

I ruffled a hand through my hair, feeling a roaring need pitch up in my head, screaming for me to pay the man. …If it was, in fact, a man. "I'm not _unhappy_ with it," I responded, waving it off. "I…well, I was saving what I had to buy something nice for Kitty."

The bike glinted at me, glittering in pristine beauty. Already, I could see a personalized 13 embossed onto the front of the side mirrors. God, even the dang _wheels_ looked like works of art.

The thing twisted its hideous form into a knotted hand, stretched out to me. "No money charge." It offered.

For some reason my skin went cold. "Free?" I asked, nervous. "You don't normally get things around these parts for free."

"It is perfect." It said, for once able to hold the steady form of a gritty hand, clawed blue-green fingers curled in my direction.

I stared hungrily at the stunning motorcycle, ghostly desire raging within my stomach—demanding I take what's offered to me. Shadow spread at my feet, his wild grin opening in joy at this cycle. I could feel his pure emotion, coursing up through my feet, wanting _so bad_ to be riding with me on this incredible machine.

_Phantom destroyed the last one, we deserve a treat._ Shadow purred silkily, _It's rude to refuse a gift._

I chewed my lip. It _did_ say free. "Kitty would like it, too…she enjoys a little class…" I paused, swallowing. "D—deal."

It grasped my hand in a steely grip. "Now you pay," It growled, voice changing to that of pure menace.

"What?! You—you said free!" I stuttered, aware of a rocking pressure in my mind.

The hand hardened around my fingers, and a searing pain choked my heart. "No. Free of money. You pay."

Breath caught in my throat, and I dropped to my knees, "Wh—what are you—ahh!—_doing_ to me?!"

"You pay." It pressed.

"With what?!" I screeched, and at that moment I was aware of what _it_ wanted—what the thing was taking from me. "_Shadow_!" I bellowed, watching as the creature slowly began to absorb my companion—a part of _me_.

"Be calm." It ordered.

"Calm?!" I cried, stinging tears running down my face as I tried my hardest to pull away. "Shadow! Shadow, Shadow, _Shadow_! Let him _GO_!"

A tearing sound filled the world around me, and my mental contact began to stagger, "Shadow!" I begged, the voice just a whisper now.

_…Johnny…make sure…we keep…Kitty…_

"Shadow! Don't talk like that! Don't talk like you're leaving!" I held no shame in the evident tracks of waterworks pouring out of my pain-filled eyes. "Shadow!"

_…keep…her…_

_…safe…_

And he was gone.

The creature let go of my hand, and I swear I saw in one of his quicker-than-sight morphs the remains of my Shadow, trapped. "You have paid me."

"M—monster." I whispered, staring at my hands. "How could you do that to me?" My entire body ached—Shadow was gone, and there was a hole in my mind, sucking all coherent logic into it faster and faster.

It was such an ache I had never known. Like a limb had been ripped off of me in some sort of horrible bike accident. "You—" I breathed, rage boiling inside, trying desperately to fill the pit now within my mind. "I want Shadow back!" I burst onto my feet, swaying drunkly.

I spun around, searching the entire barren strip of land I had come to bargain upon. The creature had vanished into the depths of the Ghost Zone.

A random entity came streaking by, "Hey, you!" I called, gesturing the ghost over. It paused, and when seeing me, hesitated, cocked its head to the side. "Did you see a sort of—creature, type, _thing_ that kept changing forms into—you know, stuff, leave here?!"

"Just now?" The other ghost asked, backing away.

I nodded hastily, "Just now, you couldn't miss—"

"I don't know what you are talking about." The ghost replied, turning to leave. "You're all I've seen around here for some time now."

"What do you mean?" I snapped, anger roaring. "I've only been here a few minutes! Now where is the thing?!"

The ghost drifted in the other direction, "Don't know what you're talking about!" It stopped, suddenly, and turned around to stare openly at me. "I haven't seen you move from that spot for a century."

"W—what?" My legs wobbled. "You can't mean that, I…I…"

"I have to go." The ghost claimed, returning on its intended course and speeding away.

I fell back onto the—now rusted—motorcycle that I had paid for with my own dear Shadow. A whimper made its solemn way out of my throat, and I placed my shaking hands on my forehead. "_Kitty_…I need you, babe."

The world around me didn't answer.

* * *

**I haven't updated in long enough, have I? *sigh* Busy! Soon, I swear, I'll update...but I seriously do have a lot of work to do.  
**

**~Catalyst**


	32. Ectoskating

**O.O…So, I just discovered that the average amount of hits I get per month on my stories is just over two thousand…**

**=) This is for you guys.

* * *

**

**Ectoskating  
**

* * *

I grinned at the ashen sky. Sunlight faded almost too quickly in the winter months, and I'd been dying to see the sun fall at nine o'clock again. My lungs filled themselves with the spectacular air of summer, and I couldn't contain a trickle of laughter that wound out of my throat. "Finally," I whispered, twisting onto my back.

The sky was clear, bats were chirping, and nothing could possibly ruin this—wait, moment's a taboo word. ...Memory. Nothing could ruin this _memory_. There. Safer.

I rolled my eyes and pooled sparks of green energy into my fingers. It bubbled and reflected my eyes across the slope I was floating above. "I've always wanted to do this…" The green energy danced onto the beaten and broken ground, winding around random rocks, filling craters—out I cast it, until the energy swooped and curved around the entire open lot, filling every crevice—coating every inch in a fine sheet of ectoglass.

I knelt down and scooped up a pair of glinting boots, smiling softly at the sharp, dagger-like blades hooked onto their heels. Fumbling a little on the straps, I managed to wrestle on the shoes. A low whistle and a few sharp _clink_s later and I was balancing on my makeshift 'ice'.

The idea to do this happened in January. Sam, Tucker and I had gone ice skating—and I had been endowed with the task of 'safety manager' as Tuck had called it. Whenever there was a patch of rough ice to trip on, I was covering it with a fresh layer of my own frozen power. Sam slapped Tucker and told him not to give me a job to do on a snow day.

I shrugged and created an entire new layer for us to skate across—rough-patch free. Sam stopped complaining and tore the place up, showing off far too many moves than seemed humanly possible for Tuck and I to try following. Of course, my not being completely human she and I managed to pull off quite the competition. It wasn't like anyone would see us at a frozen pond way out in the middle of nowhere.

It was that day that this…idea began sinking into my mind. Experimentally, I tapped one of my blades against the solidified ectoenergy. Like a jolt of electricity had fizzled between the metal on my feet and the ground below, green sparks shot off in every direction. I pulled a very unneeded scarf around my neck, probably looking most out of place with the remains of summer heat still shimmering in the air.

A foot struck out, my weight falling in behind it with the intent of making a smooth figure eight. Green power crackled behind me and I was pushing out and away. The roar of sparks got louder as I increased speed, my hand tingled while collecting as much of the friction-charged energy that jumped into the atmosphere. I bottled the stuff up and threw it at the end of my course, mentally designing a pattern.

It was a little more twisted than I intended, but my 'frozen' green 'lake' had just grown a seemingly random half pipe that was the exact same glowing texture as everything else. I whooped in joy, pressing into the course and merrily sizzling more obstacles into existence.

When I ran out of room to skate across, I simply let go of the energy holding all the extra I had created until I was met with yet another blank canvas of shimmering green. A rush of collected sparks, a few impossible loops, and a giant wire-like beam twisting inches above the entire expanse later and I was spinning actual ice into the equation. Blue intertwined with an unearthly green as shimmering lights skipped overhead.

I wanted to laugh, twist, create…and I did.

It was a very long time before I noticed that I had company. Or maybe I knew, and I ignored it—my memory is forever fuzzy on that question. But I do recall pausing, hesitating, her wonder-filled eyes almost turned olive in the supernatural light my makeshift lake gave off. I smiled softly, not even the slightest hint of worry badgering my mind when I held a hand out to her. "Want to dance?"

She was nodding even before she realized what she was doing, and by then I'd taken her hand—the life of this one girl held in my arms as I whisked her across the course, my strong arm around her waist the only thing stopping her from touching lightning hot sparks when I rolled in a long arch. We wheeled in disk-like patterns and skid over great expanses of cold-hot power without a word. We forgot our troubles. Laughed together. Shouted together. Enjoyed the wonder of this outlet of pure potential together. I felt her body relax, heard a giggle slide out unbidden, sensed a deadweight leap off of her shoulders... Together.

Tonight, just for now, we were different people. She was not playing the part of angry hunter. And I was everything but the unwilling target. Valerie Grey and Danny Phantom—just…dancing. One, for the thrill. The other, for the reprieve.

But, only for now.

* * *

**What kind of fetish do I have with Valerie and late nights? *sigh* She comes, unbidden, into every 'happy yay lucky' moment I ever give Danny. ...It _was_ going to be Sam. *hides under table* I'm a canon shipper, I—I swear… *braces chair for impact* I never liked Sam/Dash…I [didn't] hint at it a few chapters back! And—uh, umm…I—I prefer Danny/Sam. I mean, why else would I have roughly the only two serious Danny/female interaction in here being Danny/Valerie? …o.o *starts digging an escape route, muttering to self* I'm not a shipper. I'm not a shipper. I'm not a shipper…**

**Anywho, off to build a bomb shelter to hide from the TruePhans in! DX I—I'm an unbiased party!!! Don't eat me!**

**~Catalyst**


	33. Insanity

**XD Happy Birthday Cordria! I took time off of studying for finals to get this thing done... ^^ Enjoy! Unedited...and stuff. Aheh, I wrote this fast because I'm tired...  
**

**Disclaimer: At this point, do I even have to say it...?**

* * *

**Insanity**

* * *

I leaned against my bed frame, listening to him pace around his room just across the hall. I'd grown accustomed to waking up to the tiniest of shuffles coming from that room. Slowly, I got up and pattered just outside of his door, "Anything you want to talk about?" I whispered through the cold wood.

Danny's face appeared instantly, not bothering to open up his room, he simply phased through it. "Why are you up?" He asked in a voice equally quiet to mine.

"Thirsty," I responded with a tired grin.

My brother scoffed, an intangible arm pushing through the door and outstretched towards me. I shook my head, "Can't I ever just use the door?" I mumbled before taking his offer and being pulled through the wall (wow, that's cold).

Danny white hair drifted in front of his eyes and he had to shake it away before smiling softly at me, "No. I like making you uncomfortable."

We exchanged casual sibling glares before I trotted over and sat on his bed. "What's kept you up?" I inquired, patting the comfortable spot beside me.

My brother ignored any indication that I wanted him to sit by me and simply crossed his legs to float three feet above his shaggy carpet. "No one, really…"

I cocked an eyebrow. "Who's no one?"

Danny pouted, "For one, this annoying girl who keeps knocking on my door in the middle of the night."

I giggled softly. Danny stretched out on his back, "No one's Vlad." He deadpanned.

My mouth snapped shut with a resounding (and painful) _click_. "…_Why_?" We were still whispering, but now my voice had grown an interesting jagged edge to it.

"Just…nothing…conversation….a hit here and there…questions…" Danny sighed, "Nothing."

I stood rapidly and pulled Danny's arm until he was vertical. "What?" I persisted, "Did he threaten you? Are you injured? What happened?"

My brother simply phased out of my grip and went back to his previous mid-air position. "Talk. No more, no less."

"Did he—"

"No." Danny chuckled darkly, "_I_ went to _him_."

My body froze, holding a posture that was clearly demanding an explanation. I…wasn't sure what to think. If something made Danny go to Vlad, then…something must be _really_ wrong.

He didn't even need any words to prompt him, "Everything's fine, Jazz. I didn't even know why I went, at first…then…well…" He laughed outright, seemingly uncaring that our parents were in the adjacent room.

"Danny?" I asked, sensing a seriously out of place emotion coming from him.

My brother dipped, feet finding the floor so he could pace the tiny space between the door and the bed. "It was so easy, to go in there, sit and talk like… like _gentlemen_, he described it!" Danny halted abruptly, twisted to face me, a delirious element dancing inside of his bright green pupils.

I was very suddenly wondering why my brother was still in ghost form. And why it was starting to frighten me.

"He wanted to have a discussion about my 'coming of age' and some nonsense about ghost obsessions." Danny leaned in, achingly cold breath freezing down my neck. "And you know what?"

This close to his face, I could see a flicker of red squirm just underneath the surface of emerald. My brother's feral grin told a tale of insanity all it's own. I couldn't move. "Guess, Jazz." He said, strong fingers grasping my arms to forcibly keep me in place. "Guess."

"I—I don't know," I gasped, an uprising of panic flooding my better judgment to stay and help Danny. I—I needed Sam and Tucker or, to get mom and dad up, a gun—_something_!

He giggled madly, nose brushing against mine. "I wanted to talk about _my_ territory. Vlad—the Frootloop!—was invading _my_ territory." Danny jerked his head to the side, inspecting my left eye in a way that was sort of…_animalistic_.

"Danny, stop." I pleaded, finally managing to get hold of my voice. "Let—let go."

He paid my plea no mind. He had a story to finish telling. "I get rid of the bad guys, don't I, Jazz?"

My body was shivering so much I guess it looked like I was nodding. Beast-like, Danny licked his teeth, a Cheshire cat grin splitting too-wide across his face. "Vlad will never harm _my_ territory again. Okay, Jazz? _My_ turff is safe."

"What happened?" I all but stuttered.

Danny yanked away from me, subsequently causing me to stumble back a few steps with the force of his motion. He twitched, maddeningly running a hand through his hair. "I won." He smiled softly. "Vlad is no longer."

I stared blankly at him. He crept forward, white boots just an inch above the actual floor. Danny leaned down to examine my face, a surly bubble of laughter whispering behind his lips. "_My_ territory…" His eyes flashed a deep red. "Get. Out."

* * *

**=) Because we all need more angst. Now go look up 'Lab Rat' by AnneriaWings AWESOME angst-y piece of work for the DP fandom...although, I must warn you, it IS serious angst. Lovely writing, and brialliant!  
**

**~Catalyst**


	34. Warmth

**I hate being grounded, so YAY freedom! ...Oh and, Amazing Bluie, don't kill me. The plot bunnies took over, I swear! *hides* I--I'm thinking about BT, k? ...I just, gah...**

**Anywho, sweet readers, enjoy...this is what came to mind when I thought of what happens when a new ghost becomes one of the Zone...

* * *

**

**Warmth**

* * *

I tossed a stray rock between my hands in a pointless attempt to push the cold out. It didn't really surprise me to find my fingers were as frozen as the piece of earth held between them. "And in death the cold will end out victorious, never again to find warmth of life." I sighed and chucked the rock into the far distance.

Blue skin and very dimly glowing hair settled her teenage soul next to me. "Where am I?" She asked, curious.

I glanced first at her, the scars decaying around her neck, and then turned to face a green expanse of nothingness once more. "You mentioned death," she sighed, glancing down at her suffocated arms, "Is this where the dead go?"

"Is this where the dead go?" I repeated, leaning back, "Where, when? Is this where the dead go? Neither Heaven nor Hell, forever trapped in this perilous limbo, is this where the dead go?" I shook my head and shrugged, inspecting the girl. "Many skies does the poet imagine, but only until they are real will they become clear."

"I don't know either," She shivered, rather violently. I peered through my cracked spectacles, noticing a tear icily drop from her face. Or, rather, the memory of a tear. I do not think any of us can truly cry anymore.

It was not until now I had a coat and a scarf to place upon her shoulders, for they were just images projected from my mind, remnants of who I once was. "What is your name?" I inquired gently.

"I—I don't remember," she responded, clutching my jacket for dear life. Although, at this point, such a gesture should get her nowhere.

"Memory, memory," I breathed, "A title can be found in many a thing, and perhaps lost in what your parents bestowed upon you. What is your title, dear child of the grave?"

She looked up at me, "I—I think I was a musician. At least—I remember how to play." Her brows furrowed, "And…I wanted to…" She shook her head and closed her eyes, "I wanted to be..._I don't remember_."

"Don't give up, fleeting sparrow," I mumbled, "If we forget who we are, we will lose ourselves to the abyss."

She bit her charcoaled lip, "Who are you?"

I smiled sadly, "I fear I have stared into the dark too long, for it is all I have become."

"You sound like a writer," She grinned softly at me, "A ghost of a writer, but you're definitely a writer."

I tapped my fingers, a pen quite suddenly appearing in between them. "Ghostwriter it is, then,"

"Nice to meet you," She held out a hand that I graciously accepted, noticing the pick that had materialized within her palm. I lifted an eyebrow, "May I?"

A nod. I lifted the little thing and inspected it with a close eye, and then, with the pen I held, placed an inscription upon the thing and handed it back to her. "RemEmber…" she trailed, allowing the cursive scribble to become engraved. "Ember…it could…work. I guess."

"Until the day your true mind returns to you," I placed the pen within my pocket, "It would fit as a stage name, perhaps for a rebellious teenage rock star?"

She giggled, "I could work with that. It sounds so…alive." With tender care the pick was placed within the trace of a pocket, mumbling, "Until I remember..."

"For if this is all we have left, we may as well make the best of it," I shifted, finding another rock to pick up, "But where shall we go in this place of death? Is there any instruction for the newly…deceased?"

The girl now dubbed Ember stood, holding out a hand to me, "There's only one way to find out, Mr. Ghostwriter."

My deathly pale hand grasped hers. And for some reason I could not fathom, it almost felt warmer than my own. Something that had a mesmeric resemblance to…to…

Life?

* * *

**A/N: Now, is that spark of life just memory, as seems to be the theme? ;) That's for your thirsty imaginations to mull over, my dear readers.**

**Toy Soldiers Unite,**

**~Catalyst  
**


	35. Boxed In

**I looked at my chapters and realized there were thirty four. That _bugged _me. So I made it thirty five. ^^**

**Thank you Amazing Bluie, the title is perfect. ;) You truly are AMAZING.  
**

* * *

**Boxed In**

* * *

"I feel deprived," I sighed, tapping at the oddly glowing glass surrounding me. It had been a little while since I'd tried to blast out of this thing, only to have my attacks rebound and somehow manage to bite me, but I was still tempted to try again.

The speaker crackled to life above me with a silky voice I'd grown to hate, repeating, for the millionth time, "This won't take long."

I slammed my head against the glass behind me, wincing upon impact. "Stop spying on me, it's disconcerting."

A low chuckle. "You should be used to this by now. _Spying_ is how I get my information."

"Stalker," I breathed, not nearly happy with how weak my voice sounded just then.

A hot sting of electricity fired to life from the glass, rippling through my body and causing an unbidden scream to echo around my soundproof box. When it stopped, I was left completely without energy, and feeling like someone had just applied a battering ram to my skull.

"I was waiting for the right moment," The speaker laughed. "Thank you for the opening."

"Ow," I hissed, biting my lower lip. "Why'd you do that?"

"Just another test," he replied, all business. "Your nerves seemed to have some sort of reaction to that…"

"You think?" I snapped.

There was a frustrated growl, and for a moment I thought I'd gotten to him. But his words clarified that he was merely unhappy with my results. "Your virus cells did _nothing_. No slowing in their multiplication—which, by the way, has quickened over the past hour—and absolutely no reaction to the electric shock. Maybe if I turned up the voltage…?"

"Hey!" I hit my fist, _hard_, on the glass, "The goal is to heal me, not _kill_ me!"

"You have no say in what I'm doing," he glowered in response.

I glared at the little speaker above me, willing him to see my facial expression, "Never had a say in you kidnapping me and sticking me in a stupid _box_, either, but that doesn't keep me from complaining."

"You were infected and refused treatment!" he defended, clearly short with me.

I sneered bitterly, "I'm sorry I wasn't very akin to the idea of _torture_."

There was a pause, a noise I assumed to be fingers tapping across a desk, and finally a complicated drawn-out groan. "I don't know how else to fix it…" He trailed.

My ears pricked, "Don't tell me this is the alternative you mentioned earlier? The one you didn't want to have to try?"

"Mmm. It'll likely kill you." He sounded so casual; I almost had to do a double take to comprehend what he meant.

I ran a hand through my hair; despise one another as we may, death was never something either of us would take lightly about the other. "That bad, huh?"

"This virus could kill the entire human population," he reminded, a sort of sorrow coating his tone. "If we don't fully remove it from your system, you won't only die, but take down all living civilization as you go."

I rolled onto my back, aching muscles slowly feeling better, "What kind of idiot creates a virus that gets airborne when you die?"

"I thought it was rather ingenious," he mumbled.

I closed my eyes, "Just tell me what you're going to do."

"I'm mixing a lot of substances—I'm sure you wouldn't recognize most of these compounds, so I won't bother listing them—and infusing them with a level of antiplasm and then doing the same to a group of chemicals that will be combined with ectoplasm to create a double—"

"Never mind," I cut him off, rolling my eyes. Nothing I'd understand. Got it. "What do you need _me_ to do?"

…

"Stay alive, Badger."

* * *

**Glad to be rid of this plot bunny - I have been freed of its evil clutches!**

**~Catalyst**

**p.s. Sorry if any of you thought the title meant a Box Ghost fic...come to think of it, the BG needs more love. I challenge thee~! Go write about the Box Ghost! And spread my challenge around...**


	36. A Fairly Ghostly Encounter

**Okay, a request fic for TweenisodeOrange that's WAY overdue. =) Here's your FOP crossover, dear. ;) I hope the length makes up for how long it took for me to get it out.**

**Disclaimer: Well, I don't own any of Butch Hartman's creations.**

* * *

**A Fairly Ghostly Encounter

* * *

**

Danny slowly stood up and pulled on his backpack, ignoring the cold pinch his Fenton Thermos gave his back through the newly established hole in favor of the granola bar he'd just managed to weasel out of his pack.

He decided, after a moment of chewing, that food had never tasted so dry. Not that he had much else to keep him moving. In fact, he was lucky to be as well-equipped as he was, considering the circumstances.

A ghost with some gigantic sword had reared its ugly resurrected head just before he could slip off to the overnight 'Under the Stars' sleepover party-thing the school was throwing. His backpack was stuffed to the brim with just-in-case-it's-vegetables-for-dinner snacks, a Fenton Thermos, pajamas, another set of clothes, an ecto-proof sleeping bag (that only stung a little bit when touching), an extra blanket to protect him from direct contact of said sleeping bag, and one over-stuffed and nauseatingly pink teddy bear—a gift for Dash to wake up with.

…Needless to say, the bear and half of his clothes did not survive. And, if he wanted to be perfectly honest with himself, he didn't fare nearly as well as his sleeping bag, which was the only thing left perfectly intact. Although Danny managed to avoid any serious injuries, the fight had lasted out into the morning, each intense hit taking him farther and farther away from Amity Park.

His ghost form was hiding behind a mask of fatigue, and he had decided to wait to use that ghost half's dwindling supply of energy until he got a better feel for his bearings. It wouldn't do any good to lose power while flying over a desolate land without a water supply.

Currently, the only clue as to where he was happened to be a sign about a block ahead—the only sign he'd seen since starting on this long stretch of road. Not that the town name told him much, seeing as he had never heard of it. It was very distinct, and with bright, bubbly letters it read with a most cheerful manner that didn't seem to fit his situation whatsoever: 'Dimmsdale: 10 Mi'.

In hindsight, maybe a handheld PDA with GPS and wireless internet access wasn't that bad of an idea…

* * *

"Cosmo, you're an idiot." Wanda stated frankly, watching Timmy scramble to peel the mass of orange goop and bananas off the walls before his parents burst in.

The green toaster laughed, changing back into his fairy form. "But I'm _your_ idiot."

Wanda snagged Cosmo's wand before he could attempt to clean the mess and waved it away on her own. "And that line is starting to wear thin." To the now relieved Timmy she grinned. "What do you want to do now, sport?"

Timmy collapsed dramatically onto his bed. "You're asking me what I want to do after a day of avoiding Vicky, pranking Crocker without getting caught, trying to console Cosmo for the loss of another insect—"

"TREVOR!" Cosmo wailed.

Timmy went on as if never interrupted, "and magically tearing it up in the skate park while my friends watched in awe? I'm _exhausted_." The boy grinned mischievously. "What do you have in mind?"

"Well, I—" Wanda stopped when Timmy interrupted her. "Not you. Him." She turned, with agonizing slowness, to her husband. Cosmo was spinning his recovered wand, clearly searching for inspiration.

Suddenly, as she knew he would, Cosmo shouted out with glee, "I know!" And here Wanda prepared her wand for damage control, "Let's go ghost hunting!"

The female fairy froze, her eyes panicked. Timmy, skeptical, frowned. "Ghosts don't exist, Cosmo."

"Of course they do!" her husband shouted, lifting his wand. The pointed star began to glow, powering up for a fistful of magic.

Wanda snatched his wand just in time to stop him—which was perfectly legal, because Timmy hadn't made a wish. "No they _don't_." She snapped, trying to glare memory into her husband. It wasn't like she could come out and say 'No ghosts' with Timmy sitting right there. He'd immediately wish for them to inform him.

"Uh…Wanda? Why do you have that Cosmo-shut-up look in your eyes?" Her godchild asked, cocking his head to the side curiously. Before Cosmo could open his trap to reply Wanda _poof_ed a closed zipper on his mouth.

"Nothing." Wanda smiled at Timmy. "Why don't you start cleaning up—I'm sure your parents are going to start dinner soon."

Stubborn to a fault, Timmy pushed on, "I wish you would tell me what you're hiding."

Wanda deflated, and the magical _need_ for her to answer that question pressed hard at her throat. "It's nothing against DA Rules if you wish for it, I guess." Wanda sighed, crossing her legs. For a moment only the buzz from two sets of wings could be heard. "Fairies aren't supposed to interact with ghosts, sport. Immortals of different species in familiar contact with one another has never been a good thing, like between pixies and fairies. Ghosts have a tendency to be vengeful while fairies tend to play pranks. It doesn't mix well."

Timmy lifted his eyebrows, "So they _are_ real? That's awesome! What do they do?"

Cosmo unzipped his mouth, "They do lots of stuff, they fly, like us, they can walk through things, disappear—mphhh."

Wanda re-zipped his mouth, "_No more than he wishes to know_." She reminded with a whisper.

Timmy rolled his eyes, "Wanda…" He warned. "I can just wish you to tell me anyway." His ten-year-old face lit up, "But if you don't want to tell me…Cosmo! I wish we were equipped to hunt ghosts!"

Moments later Timmy was dressed out in a startling dark pink HAZMAT suit, Cosmo playing his green pistol. With a sigh, Wanda joined them, changing into a brighter pink set of goggles for her adventurous godchild. Timmy wished them out of the house and pulled out a tracking device that came from a seemingly non-existent pocket.

While Timmy and Cosmo jumped after the most minuscule of ecto signatures, Wanda silently thanked the knowledge that there were no ghosts to be found in the city of Dimmsdale.

* * *

Danny moved cautiously down the bustling street, weary beyond belief. His stomach complained about the lack of cash in his pockets, while his mouth cried for the murky puddle he'd just stepped over. And he refused to even concentrate on his feet anymore.

Danny glanced wistfully at a patch of green up ahead, the thought of a prickly park bench and a gurgling water fountain sounded all too wonderful.

* * *

Timmy inspected the tree root, jutting up from its earthly prison. "I don't get it." He said, "The scanner _says_ that it's right here."

"Well, sport, maybe it's just a leftover trace of a ghost," Wanda suggested.

Timmy scowled, rubbing muddy hands on his now normal outfit—the HAZMAT had gotten incredibly too uncomfortable for him a half hour before. "But if ghosts are real then they should be _everywhere_." He gestured to the trunk, "But instead I'm jumping around at bushes and trees!"

"Don't forget the fire hydrant." Cosmo added, changing from a weapon back into a fairy.

The boy sighed, glancing at his watch. "There's not much time in the day left for play," he complained, "Wanda, are you _sure_ this scanner works?"

The fairy smiled, "Of course it works."

"But not well enough," Timmy declared, a tug of inspiration coming to him, "It's not sensitive enough…"

"Maybe the ghosts are hiding." Cosmo suggested, trying to balance his wand on his nose.

Timmy growled and threw down the scanner. "I wish the ghosts would just _come_ to me." He said, folding his arms.

"Done!" Cosmo crowed, ignoring Wanda's sharp, terrified shout of warning.

* * *

Danny stumbled up to the drinking fountain, his exhausted legs feeling relatively accomplished now that he'd made it the last block to this little park. He chuckled in half delirium, his hands shaking a little as he reach down to press the little metal thingy that would make water come out.

In a glorious, dirt encrusted spurt, the fountain called to his dry mouth with utmost temptation. Danny grinned, and kneeled down a little bit to wet his cracked lips.

Suddenly, before feeling that heavenly flow of hydration, he lurched unexpectedly to the left. Danny blinked, "Must be more tired than I expected…" he muttered to himself, taking a step back and re-pushing the button for water.

Again, just before he could take a sip, he tripped over himself a few feet toward a stand of trees. Danny growled at his feet, stomping back.

This time he didn't even make it to the drinking fountain—he turned around and headed for a half dead Oak. Danny stopped, glanced at his shoes, then back at the water fountain—now ten feet away…and getting farther.

He snagged the branches of a tree upon passing it, lifting his uncontrollably walking legs above ground. "Stop." He commanded out loud, as clearly mental command wasn't enough.

With a mind of their own, his legs flailed continuously. And with a body too tired to hold itself up for too long, Danny felt the strain in his arms and back—which wasn't at all helped by the fact that his momentum made him swing.

With a clawing feeling of panic Danny searched for something to stop himself—even when, of its own accord, his body dropped to the ground and kept moving. Snagging useless plant life and crashing through brambles, Danny eventually resigned to heading into an Eastern direction, praying that his powers wouldn't have to be used in some fight when a trip home sounded so much more favorable.

* * *

Timmy kicked at a rock, bored. "Wanda, how long has it been?"

"Five minutes," She replied, hovering above him and looking a tad nervous.

"Couldn't the ghost just _poof_ here instead of taking so long?" Timmy whined.

"It's only been five minutes, sport." Wanda repeated.

Cosmo eyed an snail as it made its slow way up the bark of a tree. "Maybe it's just slow." He suggested, running a list of names through his head for this new insect.

The godchild watched in slight amusement as Cosmo carefully coaxed the snail onto his wand. "Don't name it," Timmy warned.

"Why wouldn't I name Randolph?" Cosmo grinned. "Randolph and I are buddies!"

Wanda and Timmy both rolled their eyes. "Should we get him a tissue box?" he asked his godmother. She held up her wand and _poof_ed one into her palm knowingly.

"Is that a friendship gift for me and Randolph?" Cosmo asked, already snatching the Kleenex from his wife. "Thank you Wanda!"

Timmy laughed at his fairy godfathers antics, noticing the rumble in his stomach as he did so.

Wanda also picked up on this noise, and she lifted an eyebrow at her godson. "Should we head back for supper, Timmy?"

"I'd rather not eat moms cooking," Timmy said, settling back down on a tree root. "Besides, I'm still waiting for my ghost…Although, I wish I had a hamburger." He grinned at the sudden burger that appeared in his lap and ripped into it merrily.

That was when he heard it. Soft at first, but getting louder. Timmy tipped his head to the side, listening. It was a steady, fast beat…it reminded him of…stomping…?

He didn't get the time to ponder this new sound as a teenager, about fourteen, crashed through a nearby bush and tackled Timmy.

* * *

Danny rolled off of what he landed on, panting and unable to open his eyes even if he had wished to. It felt like he'd just run a mile in the most exhausted state possible—and he didn't doubt that assumption, either.

"Guys, hide!" someone shouted nearby.

There was a shuffling noise and Danny felt someone poke at him in the side. "Who the heck are you?" A kid's voice snapped. "You made me drop my dinner!"

"Sorry," Danny mumbled, reluctantly sitting up and rubbing the tense muscles of his neck. He glanced at the kid, whose mischievous gleam reminded him far too much of Youngblood. "I don't know why, but for some reason I feel like I should be asking you what I'm doing here…"

The kid blinked and twisted his fingers into his pink shirt, the earlier look of adventurous joy trickling away. "What?"

"Uh…nevermind." Danny replied, looking around. He was still inside of a park, most likely on the other end of it, and…a green piece of equipment leered at him a few feet away. He froze, staring at it. Was it possible that, even with such a weak amount of energy, some sort of ghost luring device was what landed him here?

He had the answer almost before he thought it. Of _course_ that's what it was. Was there any other kind of weird freaky stuff affecting him out there that _didn't_ carry a link to his ghost powers? The only good thing about this one was that it wasn't Freakshow this time. Just some kid probably messing with a lost piece of equipment he found. "Um, what are you looking at?" The kid asked nervously, stooping to pick up the device.

Danny immediately lunged and got to it before the kid could. "Hey!" The boy shouted, reaching to attempt a recovery. Danny pushed the boy off. "Do you know what this is?" he pressed.

"Well, duh! It's _mine_!" the kid glared. "Give it back! That's my…my Cosmo ghost finder!"

"Really?" Danny asked, startled that the kid actually knew it had to do with ghosts. "And how does it work?"

"On…on voice command, but only my voice will work so there's no point in taking it!" he said, desperately trying to get at Danny's outstretched hand. "See, watch, I wish that my Cosmo ghost finder would find the ghost!"

Danny lifted an eyebrow at the silly command. There was no voice reception equipment that he could see; it was clearly an unfamiliar object to the both of them.

The boy turned dramatically to stare at a tree root, and, surprisingly, the device perked up. "I found a ghost!" It crowed, in an excited, totally-not-computer-like tone. Danny's face paled, worry striking up that this thing might be able to detect him…he searched his mind for an excuse if it could actually— "It's holding me!"

Danny dropped the item as if it had suddenly burned him, but that didn't stop it from filing too much information. "He's a real one, too! He has a body and it feels like it's stuffed with a whole bunch of ghost energy! Isn't that so cool, Timmy? It's funny, at the same time it's like I was being held by a human; but there's no way that's a human!" The device chuckled—it actually _laughed_ like it was a real sentient being, and continued despite Danny's obvious horror, "I think this is the one of those thingies we've heard rumors about. Some sort of in-between. Like mixing a horse and a person to make a centaur, or an ant and a cantelope to make an antelope. It's both a ghost and a human! I don't know what that's called, but we can ask Wanda."

"I wish my Cosmo ghost finder would stop talking!" the kid cried, almost as panicked as Danny.

Danny stopped. "You _wish_?" Suddenly, it clicked. The babbling voice that concealed itself in the form of a scanner, forcibly being run to this kid…and the word 'wish' all rushed together to fit in a flawless puzzle. Danny whirled on the kid, "You're messing around with _genies_?!"

* * *

Timmy stuttered, "G-ge-_genies_? Why would—wait, you know about _genies_?" A flood of relief swelled through Timmy at this news. "Cosmo, you could have told me," he chided, inspecting the puzzled teen in front of him.

The stranger nodded, "I've met more than my fair share with only one of them—her name's Desiree and she's…"

"A trickster?" Timmy grinned a little uncertainly. "Norm was, too."

The teen ruffled a hand through his black hair, wary eyes tracking over Timmy. "Who are you?"

"…Timmy Turner. Who are you?" Timmy asked, slowly feeling more comfortable.

"Danny." The teen glanced around, and fell into a casual crouch to be at a closer eye level, subtly recovering the ghost scanner before the kid could. "You know how dangerous a genie is, right?" he questioned, glancing up at the trees.

"I'm not an idiot," Timmy scoffed. Who did this guy think he was, acting like an expert? "Who says I'm messing with genies? I…sort of know better by now." Timmy blinked in understanding, "You do know about magical creatures, right?"

Danny rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I'm definitely dealing with a kid here."

"Hey!"

Ignoring Timmy, Danny stood up. "Magic isn't real—the genie I know runs off of ecto energy." He chuckled, "_Magical creatures_. You're probably thinking of ghosts." Growing serious Danny inspected the Cosmo finder still in his hands, and Timmy picked up on a little worry.

He didn't know about magic. He was currently holding a disguised fairy. He somehow was aware of ghosts, but that didn't count. As far as Timmy knew, until today ghosts weren't really _real_. Timmy jumped up, "Are you going to give that back already?" He snapped, taking the opportunity to snag Cosmo away.

His fairy giggled a little, "That tickled."

Timmy stuffed Cosmo in his back pocket and picked up the pink sunglasses that symbolized Wanda. "It talked." Danny said, somehow not surprised enough.

Timmy backed away, "Duh, it's been talking. That's what it's programmed to do."

"That didn't sound like programmed talking to me..." The teenager lurched unexpectedly once Timmy had gone all of six feet. He yelped and a startled "Again?!" came out. Danny stumbled back into the short range from Timmy and stopped.

Timmy took another set of steps back, this time a puzzled look stretching across his face. Danny was tugged along by some invisible force, and he was slowly beginning to scowl. "Timmy, right?" he asked, waving away an answer, "Could I please have that invention back?"

"It's mine!" Timmy defended, experimentally moving backwards again.

Danny stumbled on a tree root. "Let me go!" the older boy demanded, glaring up at Timmy. "Don't _make me_ use what little energy I've got to keep you in place!"

Timmy grinned triumphantly, "You _are_ a ghost!"

"What?" The teen yelped, "I—I don't know what you're talking about!"

"You mean this?" Timmy took an innocent hop away.

Danny, forced to follow, cried out, "Stop that!"

Timmy smiled, and Danny once again felt like he was meeting the human version of Youngblood. "You don't look like a ghost," the boy suddenly burst, face falling, "Why?"

"I'm not a ghost," Danny defended, his voice not nearly as convincing as he would have hoped.

Timmy shook his head, "Wanda, can ghosts make themselves not look like ghosts?"

Silence.

Danny glanced around, "Who are you talking to?"

"…No one?" The younger questioned, pulling off a pair of alarmingly pink sunglasses and inspecting them.

The teens eyes hardened, no longer really caring what this kid was doing. He was tired, hungry, and in desperate need of a hot shower. And, for some reason or another, the boy standing in front of him was holding him from even attempting such a feat. "Look, I don't care. Just give me that ghost device you've got or—" a burst of frozen air cut Danny off mid-sentence. He shivered, looking around expectantly.

It didn't take long to turn around and inspect the sky, in which a mass of glowing green entities seemed to be diving…_straight for him_. Danny was too preoccupied with a frozen sort of panic to register a female voice muttering, quite indignantly, "And _this_ is why we shouldn't make any ghost wishes."

* * *

**Aheh. ^^ Character interaction was hard--had to scrap A LOT of drafts. But I think I'm happy with the final copy. THANK YOU to Amazing Bluie for being so gosh dang _amazing _and hashing this out with me--even if we did spend an hour arguing over one sentence that we never really changed. ;) (I know that was my fault, but shh! Bask in the glory, it's done!)**

**To my readers, I adore you all, and I pray you have a fantastical day.**

**Toy Soldiers Unite,**  
**~Catalyst**


	37. Future Images

**...And here we go again!**

**Disclaimer: Oh, ya'll know how much I _wish_.

* * *

**

**Future Images**

* * *

Watching the last of the ghosts vanish into the portal, Danny found himself grinning. _They'd done it._ Three days of absolute insanity, scrambling to get all the supplies together, world leaders bickering over tiny details, getting enough ghosts to power the complete intangibility of the Earth… Danny sighed in relief. _It was done_.

He turned around; Sam, Tucker, and Jazz were pelting ahead of an assembly of people to greet him, their faces mirroring the victory in his own eyes. He held up a hand to wave at them, heart so light and happy he didn't even notice, at first, his foot being clasped in a steel grip.

Without even a chance to yelp, Danny was yanked under the ice. Down, down, struggling, only to find a pocket of air, his back slammed into a wall of frozen water. "Make the switch!" a heavy, yet familiar voice cried. A press of air was the only response, and Danny opened his eyes in time to see a figure vanish through the ice. "Wha—?"

Frostbite crouched down to feel the boys forehead, "I apologize, Great One. Are you alright?"

"Frostbite?" Danny blinked, shaking his head confusedly, "But you—the portal…I, wait, what?" He tried to stand, but Frostbite pushed him back down—and a number of other ghost simultaneously shifted threateningly toward him, the artificially lit chamber finally wiggling into view.

"We are very sorry," Forstbite replied, straightening. "But you must realize that we," he gestured to the crowd of familiar enemies surrounding Danny, "had no choice."

Skulker nodded somberly, "You were about to blow it, whelp."

Danny stared around, "Blow it…? What?"

Ember settled herself on the ground, "Here we go," she sighed. "Hey, Ghostwriter, you're best at telling it…"

The poet nodded, making his way to the front row, shiny time medallion glinting around his neck. "You see, young ghost child, there's a bit of a problem…"

* * *

"Danny!" Sam cried in relief as I made it to the surface. I started in surprise at her voice, glancing up and turning beat red at the sight of the frozen crowd. _Heh, almost literally..._

"H—hiii…." I stumbled, backing up a bit. "Sorry, I was out of energy, and I kind of, lost control…" Blushing deeper, I rubbed a hand at my neck, "I haven't fallen through things in forever! Must have been the stress…three days!" I whistled. "Too much stress."

Tucker and Jazz exchanged glances, and I became instantly nervous. _Tucker said he'd buy it!_ I reassured, trying to brush off their looks.

What was seconds to them felt like years to me before Sam stepped forward. "You did your part," she smiled forgivingly. "Maybe you just need some time to recover from all that work?"

_How I missed her smile_… I thought, heart aching. Wait, moment of victory? I could hug her, couldn't I? My fingers twitched. I _wanted_ to grasp her by the arm and pull her to me. One last… I physically shook my head and stepped away from her. _No_.

Mom and dad shuffled forward a bit, looking so much like I remembered they did today. I was caught between wanting to run and throw my arms around them. …I had to settle for an aloof look. "Danny," mom addressed softly, "is there something…you want to tell us?"

Here it was, the crucial moment. _Don't screw it up, Fenton_. I lifted a curious eyebrow, violently keeping myself from peering at Jazz. "What do you mean?" I wondered aloud, very professionally. "Is it something about the asteroid?"

Jazz piped up, best intentions clear in her voice, "Danny…they know. I—"

Here, I spun in well-practiced surprise. "You mean…?" My eyes widened in shock, "Oh…well, then—" I cut myself off with a sigh. "Well..." Grudgingly I turned back to face my parents, _here we go_…

"So, you know about Vlad?" I shook my head, carefully making sure to meet their eyes. "He was an anomaly," I rehearsed, "and I'm sure you have questions, about the possibility of more half ghosts." My face turned sour—Jazz and I had decided after hours of arguing that disgust towards the 'abomination' was best in the long run. "We can sense halfas, at least Vlad, and as far as we know…"

I shrugged, "Other than some sort of thing he made straight from the lab, there have been no other human/ghost mixtures like him." I smiled a false, reassuring grin, "Nothing to worry about."

I couldn't look at Sam. I couldn't bear to see her face fall as I knew it had. Tuck and Jazz were speechless; this, too, had been part of my intent. "But…" Dad was the epitome of confusion right now.

With a curt nod, I addressed the crowd, "We did it!" I cried, knowing a number of them would catch on and start to cheer—it was a good thing we thought to overshadow a few stray people…the chant caught on and I lifted off, ten feet above my dumbstruck parents and friends before they had time to react. I gave them all one last, longing look, and bowed, "See you in Amity!" _In a better future…_

With that, I flew out of sight as fast as I could. "This was for you, Sam," I whispered, diving into the solid ice.

I reach the chamber as Ghostwriter had finished up the background information on his tale, now fully launching into our dilemma. The other me didn't notice as I walked in, fear playing in his eyes from what he was hearing. I stayed well in the back, drifting over to Amorpho and making myself comfortable.

The ghost of disguise nodded to me. "Nice handiwork," he gestured to my outfit.

I glanced down, allowing the trickles of my façade to drift away in favor of my older, true form. "I missed your scar," Amorpho whispered dryly. "It was very strange to see you without it."

The ice easily reflected the large mark crossing my forehead, over one eye, and circling down along and around my neck, where the molten whip had first held me. I glared at the image I had become, glad that I was finally doing something to make this future no more than a dream. "…Shut up and listen to the story," My hoarse voice responded.

Amorpho, knowing full well not to take my grumpy demeanor as anger towards him, simply patted my shoulder. "As you say, my Emperor."

* * *

**Amazing Bluie, my epic editor of awesome, I believe I owe you lots of favors after all the stuff you've done... :)**

**Toy Soldiers Unite,**  
**~Catalyst**


	38. Breaking In

**Happy Angst Day, Dannyversary, Easter, and - for those of you whose parents have an anniversary today *coughminecough* happy parental-versary too. =).**

* * *

**Breaking In**

* * *

I growled, plowing through another stack of papers, completely dissatisfied with the GIW's organization methods—or lack thereof. "Hurry up," the boy hissed, cautiously keeping guard outside. I mumbled an incoherent response, noise that may have sounded something along the lines of "_don't push me,_" if it hadn't been for the flashlight secured between my teeth.

Finally, I found a thick manila folder titled _Ghost Experimentation/Decimation_, and with a triumphant "_humph!_" I was leaving the room, snagging the boy and waving my prize in front of him. Daniel scowled. "Let's just _go_," he whispered. "This place is creepy enough, and I don't need _you_ around adding to it."

I rolled my eyes and led the way down the hall, all the while keeping my ears pricked; waiting for the clanking footsteps of a night guard. The boy rushed ahead at corners, crouching down to inspect what lay ahead before giving me the all-clear signal. Both of us were forced to rely on human night vision. Taking the power out was one thing—but ecto-powered ghost detectors ran regardless of whether or not the security cameras were working.

The boy put on another burst of speed, coming up in front; crouching…he held back a hand. I froze, adrenaline coursing through my legs—the urge to fight any threats nearly overpowering my logic. Daniel backed quietly away, faced me, and, upon noticing the hard look that had adorned my face, shook his head. "It's Val's dad." He quickly added the warning, "I'd take you down before you could lay a finger on him."

"I wasn't going to _do_ anything," I replied, nearly silent voice barely reaching his young ears. Daniel brushed passed me and we slowly traced our steps down the hall, turned right, started down escape route B. I had made sure to plan several exits—Daniel and I spent forever memorizing the patterns of this twisting labyrinth. There was no way we'd blow it now by tripping the notice of a guard.

The mission had gotten far too important. Important enough to make me tag-team with my enemy. Important enough to actually make me worry. Important enough to…I shuddered. To put everything I'd ever accomplished into jeopardy. And it was all because ghosts decided they wanted recognition. Harmless enough, at first.

A group of Bene (the new name for benevolent spiritual entities) had entered the human world and actually—somehow!—appealed to the courts about their treatments as poltergeists. It turned into a giant mess. The GIW vs. the Bene. When humans went in favor of humans, Observants demanded they be placed on the judging panel. Half the world thought it was a hoax; the other, a twisted form of entertainment; and for those few caught in between, a nightmare. Humans were afraid of these 'monsters' entering their homes, and the Bene wanted 'rights' to entering the physical realm.

Long, tedious story short in which the best lawyers in the country and Ghost Zone couldn't come to an agreement, I was dragged into it. Mind, I'd kept well out of the conflict for a solid year. And Daniel had gone so far under the radar, sightings of Danny Phantom were practically non-existent. But, alas, the Bene demanded they get judges who could accurately view both the human and ghost angle.

No one understood what they meant. Thank _God_ I had a group of my own, secretly watching over them from above, my vultures swarmed the courtroom before those idiots could explain about hybrids. Or…perhaps it wasn't such a good thing. The government took it as a deliberate attack by the Bene, and immediately declared hostility. Shots were fired, ghosts were captured, humans injured…

It was a mess. A massive train wreck in which I should _not_ have gotten involved. And so, I didn't. …Daniel still grumbles about my complete lack of activity then. Curse him as I may, he has a point. The GIW got there hands on a particularly…_powerful_ cluster of incompetent idiots. The GIW realized they had something, and faster than anyone could make an appeal for or against them, they started experimentation.

Weapons were created, far more devastating to ecto-genetics then had ever been envisioned. Detectors, with such incredible accuracy that I had the GIW tracking my human form from a mile away—and all I did was make my eyes glow for a brief moment! Ghosts, Bene or not, were getting disintegrated upon finding a GIW agent in this realm. Their remains (still crying out for the pain to stop) were then gathered and used to create and mold more weapons. Infectious diseases designed to get caught by a specter in the human realm got carried into the Ghost Zone—epidemics of higher proportions than the black plague broke out. The entire physical world lived—knowingly!—within a continuous time loop for weeks when Clockwork was working passed the infection.

It had to be stopped. I went to seek out Daniel—and found he'd been looking for me as well. It was in the underground home movie theater at Miss Manson's house that we began to devise a plan. It wasn't much, at first. Daniel simply knew he needed to take down the GIW. I knew that we had to disable their weaponry, and soon, because it was fast becoming efficient enough to hunt hybrids—just one tiny bit more of sensitivity in those things and I'd be discovered.

I'd never been so happy that Daniel had been so convenient as to befriend a hacker. Tucker, while studiously glaring daggers at me, managed to get half-way through GIW security systems. He was a safer hire than Technus and, perhaps, a tad less annoying. The boy was incredibly able to circumnavigate a number of firewalls, and even though he couldn't quite get everything, he was easily able to secure schematics, and a basic description of several projects the GIW were working on.

But, most importantly, he found out about the hard copy back ups. There was no way the GIW couldn't track down a computer downloading their software, but with files after files just waiting inside of a room…it was the perfect way to find what made these weapons, how to disable them, distribute antidotes…and eventually it would be the key to taking down this entire blast organization.

Daniel stopped dead in front of me and I nearly made a loud crash by tripping right into him. It was a fairly good thing the boy had gotten a grip on better coordination, as we barley made much of a scuffle. "_Shh_," the boy commanded, gesturing for me to back up. "Do you _feel_ that?" I straightened, cocking my head to the side. The apparent lack of sound and light greatly intensified my 'sixth sense' abilities, and, indeed, there was something that seemed to be knocking at the back of my mind…something…_unpleasant_.

I curled my nose and took several steps back, but the sensation persisted. "Melted battercakes," I cursed, "what on _Earth_ is that?" Daniel rudely stepped on my foot, motioning for my voice to lower. Angrily, I bit my lip, glancing around the dark. "Where are we on the map?"

Daniel shook his head. "We should be near the fourth gate by now," he whispered. I swallowed. In between the fourth and fifth gates was the 'sector five' of this horrible place. What we had all agreed must be where all the experiments were held. The boy ran a hand through his hair, a nervous shiver working its way up his back, "It hurts…"

I nodded. "Like you said earlier, let's just get out of this place," I motioned for him to continue. But before Daniel could do more than open his mouth to agree, a set of footsteps and flashlights began racing down the hall we were supposed to be turning onto next.

The boy and I took that as our cue to run, as quietly as we could, behind the previous corner. Thankfully, we'd hidden ourselves in time that those passing wouldn't see us. Unfortunately, whoever they were turned down the very same hall we had previously occupied. Meaning they were heading this way. Daniel, having already calculated that there would be no way we'd make it to the other end of the hall in time, hastily moved back ten feet and lay flat on his stomach. I followed suit, hating the only cloak I had to rely on was darkness.

What looked like a troop of soldiers (save for the fact that they were all adorned in white) hurried by, flashlights bobbing wildly in tune with their rapid footsteps. I held my breath, six…eight…ten, no, twelve pairs of men went by. The last two, moving in a step that didn't quite match in their company's march slowed to a stop, and the two of them shuffled to the side, flicking off their lights so as not to be noticed. I felt rather than saw Daniel and I exchange glances, for our eyes had been momentarily dazzled by the flashlights.

"Are we clear?" One of the masked figures asked nervously. Upon recognition of that voice, I nudged Daniel in warning to keep his mouth _shut_. As far as we knew the boy's old teacher was one of the enemy. Although, telling by the way he and his companion were acting, I doubted it. Still…they could be dangerous and the _boy_ might readily blow our cover just to say hi. Times like that, he mirrors his father so much I may not be able to tell the difference between the idiots. Especially in a dark hallway.

The second figured tottered at the edge of the corner, looking around. "They'll be gone for a bit. It's a good thing whoever took the power out did it so well—we have a good forty five minutes before they can get it back on." This time I honestly had to throw my arm over the boy and cover his mouth. Valerie, also, was on our 'unsure' list. Daniel, the little brat, licked my hand.

Disgusted, I held my ground, digging fingernails into his exposed skin. The boy shifted his elbow very carefully to place pressure between my ribs. I flinched, the ghost of a hiss escaping my lips. "What was that?" the former teacher of Casper High wondered, spinning to face us, far more blinded then we were seeing as _he_ was the one waving a flashlight around. The boy and I froze, slowing our breath down as well as we could humanly manage.

"_Shh!"_ the teenage female whispered, glancing back in our direction. At this point, I thanked Daniel's decision to lie down. It would be much easier to spot two lumps pressing themselves up against the wall then two…piles…flat on the ground. "Don't you understand that if someone hears us we're _finished_?!" she whispered harshly, turning her back to us in dismissal. "We have to get to the ghost experimentation rooms."

"We don't even know if he's going to help us…" Lancer sighed, "Or if he went into hiding." The teacher slumped by the wall, and I wasn't quite sure if he was shaking his head or not, but the tone of defeat was clear as he spoke, "As far as we know, he went into hiding just as soon as the Guys In White started this whole thing. I'm beginning to think this plan was a tad too impulsive…"

Valerie also sighed, seating herself right across from him. "We have to move as soon as our eyes adjust, you know…" She leaned back a little, and I found myself growing in frustration. _We have to wait until they're ready to move?!_ The clock was ticking! It's high time Daniel and I got out of here, regardless of what these two fools were up to. "But even if we don't find Phantom here, we can still find out what they're doing to the ghosts to get all of this technology…"

"Imitating ghost powers." The teacher's voice mirrored the one I used when I was disgusted with something—most commonly, the idiot barely breathing next to me…speaking of whom, his voice had hitched when they mentioned Phantom. I don't blame the boy. I missed my ghost half, too... "Ecto-experimentation on humans…Phantom would never stand for this. I don't care if they called him a poltergeist—he _protected_ human rights…"

"And he completely vanished as soon as the GIW started taking over," Valerie finished, standing and holding out a hand to the teacher. "I'm telling you, if we find him anywhere, it'll be _here_." _Perhaps not in the fashion you assume, my dear… _I thought, watching as Lancer accepted her offered hand and stood. My mind made up, I noisily sneezed as well as I could in the position I was in.

The two jumped so high it should have been comical. Danny growled just faintly enough for me to hear and pushed himself to his feet. "Next time you try to keep my mouth shut like that, I'm going to break your nose! I'm not so stupid that I'd talk even if it were Jazz's voice I heard." He grumbled, twitching to face Valerie and Lancer, "And then you go off and be a hypocrite and sneeze, Frootloop. …Hey guys…didn't expect to find you here." Daniel added, crossing his arms argumentatively.

I graciously got to my feet, "If you weren't such a talkative little _brat_ I wouldn't feel the need to do that…and licking my hand was just _crude_."

"Yet, effective." The boy grinned widely, gesturing to Lancer and Valerie, who promptly flinched upon recognition. "You guys gonna talk?"

"_D—Danny_?" the former teacher breathed in shock, mirroring Valerie's surprised stutter of "_Mr. Masters_?" I nodded to them formally, pushing the boy to the side for my own approach. Daniel, after nearly dropping the folder, stared back up at me with a look of murder in his eyes. I didn't even need light to know that; so it was my pleasure to ignore him. "What a surprise," I said silkily, "But this really isn't the time nor place for us to be speaking."

The new, rather odd pair, glanced shiftily at one another. Finally, Valerie stepped back and cleared her throat, "What...what are you doing here?" Her voice, as I assume was meant to sound brave, wavered ever so slightly; and I realized, ironically, that she was afraid we were _enemies_. I cocked my head to the side at that thought. How…_interesting_.

Danny passed by me, not even bothering to hesitate in giving Valerie a half-hug. "We're running out of time," he mumbled, "Vlad and I will explain on the way; but we _have_ to get out of this place." Striking past the new additions, he led the way down the hall. "…It's this way to the experimentation labs, if you were wondering," he added as an afterthought, immediately causing both intruders to fall in step behind Daniel.

It was my reluctant displeasure to bring up the rear. "We heard your conversation…" I glowered, catching up so I could walk to the right of Lancer, "And I can guarantee you Phantom has not been captured by the GIW…you _could_ say he helped to organize this mission…" I drawled, knowing exactly the questions that had been pressing on their minds and well aware that, while answering some, more had appeared.

"Where is Phantom?" Valerie asked, stress coating her tone, "And…how do we know you're not with the GIW?" Her suspicions, while well founded, were better off ignored. I didn't trust her, and I had no reason to. I ground my teeth in displeasure, preparing a snappy response.

"How can we trust you, Valerie?" Daniel whispered from a few feet ahead, his tone coated in a strangled sort of misery. …He'd taken the words right out of my mouth. The boy really was beginning to get like me… I couldn't help the feral grin twitching across my lips. The girl, about to answer, was stopped when Danny froze, clenching his fists.

By-passing the humans, I moved ahead, placing a hand on his shoulder and, although I was about to inquire what was going on I found myself quite unable to do anything. Because I _felt_ it. A wave of pain and fear erupted inside of my mind, all at once quaking and twisting into a burning mass that took hold of me, froze my entire body while causing it to reel through dark memories that weren't mine.

A black void penetrated swirling nightmares within nightmares that had consumed my mind—digging so deep and hoarding all thought that I was once able to claim as my own. It took what was mine—my loves and my dreams, my faults and my hate, my knowledge and my strength, my tact and my deceits, everything that made me _me _was being dragged away, turned over, re-created into a monster I did not recognize.

It felt as if I was simply a humble observer, trapped upon an island of sanity and forced to watch as, one by one, everything I knew I was burned. And within the ash arose a pain so deep, horrifying…and something, _something that didn't belong was coming_! An animalistic panic struck through my veins and I struggled, forcing my feet out of a clogged swamp, I had to stop what was coming! I had to! It was so _wrong_! It was everything I wasn't—and it wanted to _destroy_ me!

I fought, kicked out, thrust my arms in all directions, all to no use. I was trapped…dying, alone, broken… A shriek penetrated through the distance, and my world _stopped_. I'm not quite sure how long I stayed, frozen along with it, until I realized that my fingers could move. It was then that I managed to open my eyes, look around. Sound, harsh whispers coated with fear, filled me.

"Vlad?!" Valerie tried again, shaking me. My body writhed in response and I forced myself to blink. Valerie. Dark hallways. Lancer. The boy. Lights. Spinning. Focus. Lights? Oh…a flashlight. In my eye. Ow. Right, push it away. Blink. Focus. Breathe. The boy? Daniel? Where…frozen, same place where I had been, unattended. The darkness, the void, consuming his terrified frame.

I shouted. Disregard for safety…no, whisper! Save him! Pull him back! Gestures, frantic, ringing…Lancer, pull him "back!" Hoarse, barely a whisper, my voice? "Pull him back!" I croaked, pointing at Daniel. "Save…ack!" Coughing rocked me and my sight grew dizzy. Confusion wracked my brain. I glanced around, finding the torch alight upon Daniel, hands grasping his shirt, forcing him to step back.

He was next to me, I held his shoulder for my own support. "Daniel," I called; almost unable to hear myself speak. "Daniel, wake up. It's gone. Breathe. It's gone." He didn't respond. I closed my eyes, "Wake up." Now my voice was under control, a whisper, but strong. "It's gone. You're you. Wake up. It's gone." He coughed, his body suddenly taken with shivers, but alive.

Left longer to fight the…darkness? His knees gave out, but Valerie, Lancer, they were there to catch him. "_What happened?!"_ Valerie pressed, nearly failing at attempting to keep her vocal cords on a low tempo. I bit my lip, shook my head. I had to focus. Breathe. Help the boy, he looks _freezing_. No, don't think about…what _was_ that? What happened? I don't care. I'm terrified. We need to escape this mad house. We have to run, now, find another exit—I'm _not_ taking one more step down that hallway.

Daniel's eyes found mine in the light of the flashlight Lancer had foolishly flicked on. It was a moment of pure, silent agreement when he picked himself up, and, with me promptly following behind, began running, retracing our steps the other way, "We'll take gate three out," I said, listening as a more unsure couple of feet joined in behind us.

"We saw a guard back there last," Danny warned; it wasn't much of an argument to stay away, though. More like a plan for action. I nodded, and the boy continued, "We'll have to overwhelm him; shouldn't be too hard with Valerie and Lancer with us." A protest from behind went ignored. "And then we'll be jumping the fifth gate curve to get out, sound good?"

"Fairly," I said, and, hesitantly, added, "Do you have any idea what that…?" He was silent, and I knew that the boy would have as much idea as I did. He simply brought a hand down to the folder under his arm…and stumbled to a stop. "What?" I asked, pulling alongside haphazardly.

He stared at the folder, and Lancer's light (which was _still_ on) proved what the boy had already realized. "We…must have dropped the papers." Danny opened the now-empty folder, a sort of agony twisting his face. "I…can't go back to that—that _place_."

"I got it," I cut off, looking to Valerie and Lancer. "Daniel's still shaky on his feet. Make sure he gets to safety—I'll be right behind you." There was a moment of uncertainty that passed before I brought out one of my most withering death glares for the two newcomers, "I'm trusting _you_. Make me regret that, and you will never see the light of day again."

Valerie's eyes widened, and she opened her mouth in a sort of surprise, retort? It didn't matter to me; I was already rushing down the hall. At this point, I think I realized what I was doing. …Could I, physically, make it past that point again? I flinched at the very thought. This was stupid, _stupid_! What am I…thinking?

_We've worked too hard to get this…_ A piece of my mind hissed, and I had to agree. This had gone too far, I'd worked to hard, to lose it all now…well, for one the GIW would know someone was sneaking down here during the city-wide power out. And Lord knows how much more difficult life would become after that—we'd never get another opportunity like this if they decided to tighten security.

So, how do I retrieve the papers? There was a point in that hallway where it hit me like a wall…whatever _it_ was. So…if I were to do some very careful maneuvering, I might be able to reach the papers…ugh, with my foot? That's pathetic…but, no one's going to see me so I guess…I'll just have to let my senses guide me.

Last time I hadn't paid enough attention—a fatal mistake as I'd walked right into _it_. Now…now? I…don't know. How am I to avoid…? There's a possibility I could run right into it…and even, no, no! Will I have to go back? Get help? We're running out of time! I can't… "_Vlad!"_ A female voice hissed, barely noticeable footsteps coming up alongside me.

I glimpsed her young outline, lifting an unseen eyebrow. "You…came to help me." I stated; an odd sense of relief swallowed what tension had been building in my midsection. I couldn't help the feral grin that slid into place as she nodded. "My dear Valerie, you haven't changed much at all, have you?"

"Of course I have, Mr. Masters," she snorted. "If you didn't overhear my conversation with Lancer, I'm _helping_ a _ghost_." Even in the darkness, the girl had such modesty to look away from me in a sort of shame, "I know it's not exactly how I'm supposed to act. I'm still a ghost hunter, like you knew I would be, but…" She laughed softly, "Things change."

"Enough to have you sneaking around the GIW headquarters with your former teacher?" I whispered, stopping as I noticed we were very near that…_place_. Like they'd been waiting for us, a sheaf of papers lay scattered about the floor only feet ahead. "I mean no offense Valerie, but such behavior is very…strange."

She continued walking and stooped to pick things up, "Yeah, well, you did some weird stuff tonight too." The girl gestured at the place she was standing, and I shuddered. "But, if you must know, Lancer and I are a part of this… _group_. He and I ran into one another on the street when the power went out at GIWheadquarters; we had no time to really plan…just came here and improvised as well as we could. We knew we needed Phantom out because, well, he was—at least—something we could handle. And Phantom would want GIW out as well as we do; so…"

I sighed, rubbing the terrible headache that had alit my forehead. "What group? How did you form?" …Is it just me, or are we really close to the corner that led down to gate four? …I know I'm supposed to do something about a blind spot here, but…

Valerie shifted nervously, going after a few more pieces of stray paper. "We kind of formed in response to all that the GIW has been doing—the fact that no one really knows what's going on in here, the weird outbursts of 'spectral holes' opening up all over the place sometimes, their out-of-this world weaponry…that big hallucination."

"The time loop was no hallucination," I explained, holding back a feeling of dizzy vertigo—_this place!_ "The press can rant all they want about GIW possibly leaking stuff into the water supplies; I know for a fact that it was a spectral plague spread throughout the Ghost Zone." I scowled, my knees kind of felt…shaky, but I pressed on anyway, trying to force my mind off of the presence of something…_unwanted_. "The GIW don't know who they affect; and so we had to suffer as the Time Master recovered…"

"Uh…Time what?" Valerie asked, stepping past me and heading on our previous course. When she noticed I wasn't following, she stopped, turned, came back. I held a hand to my head, closing my eyes and breathing heavily. "Mr. Masters…? Are you okay?" My knees buckled all too quickly and I found myself slumped on the ground. "Mr. Masters!" Valerie whispered in panic.

It felt like there were little black spots jumping into my already-darkened vision, and I tried to shake them away. "I—I'm fine…" My body shivered. "It's just this _place_…ugh…" I leaned back, groaning as a wash of exhaustion clawed its way into my mind. "Valerie…"

"What?!"

I blinked slowly up at her, unable to focus. I licked my lips, tried and failed to speak, tried again, "Get…me…_out of here_." A bright light splashed me and I turned away, _why was she turning on her flashlight? _I didn't expect her to do something so foolish; all I needed was…was…

Dark. Wait. No, not again! Fight…it…No. The dark. _Thing_. It was…somewhere. Here, my mind? No…crouching, waiting…enticing me. Fall asleep. Lean to the left…no! Stop! Don't follow the command! That's…where…_it_…was…Valerie? What, wait, I can see _it_. That _thing_. That _monster_. Glaring. Anger. Hate. Obsession. It wanted to _kill_ me. It—it…was…was…a mirror?

Plasmius grinned darkly, a clawed hand reaching out and grasping for my soul. No! That wasn't _me_! I knew who I was…I know my ghost half!! What, wait…the darkness. Changing. Shifting. Melting. Re-creating. Maddie, wearing the same smile the other me was, her eyes digging into my heart…no! It—it isn't Maddie…_Daniel_?!

Phantom frowned, "Vlad?" I blinked. "Vlad?" Valerie tried again, a flashlight too bright on my face. I think I may have mumbled her name, and if so, she was definitely responding, "I'm so sorry! I tried to pull you away and then, well…"

"Let me see him." The flashlight changed hands and an unfamiliar person knelt to inspect me. "What happened to you?" the gruff male voice asked, "And what are you and my daughter doing here? Don't you know that if you get caught—"

"Dad, give him some space," Valerie complained. "Can't you see he's out of it? I _told_ you, we're trying to stop all the madness going on. Wasn't it you that said the Organization should take any opportunity they get to take action? We were taking _action_, dad…and it just turns out Mr. Masters had the same thought we did."

"I never told you to throw yourself into danger…" The man, Damon Grey?, took hold of my shoulder and, gently, helped me into a standing position. "I'm going to help you get out of here," his voice was coated in distaste. "But you have to promise _never_ to do something like this again, Valerie."

A sigh. "Yes, dad…" Damon, with a heavy hand now gripping my right arm turned us around and began to move in the direction of…I dug my feet into the floor, Valerie, seeming to catch on that this was not a direction for me, jumped in front of us. "Dad, stop! We can't go this way."

"Valerie, there are _guards_ crawling all over Sector Three!" The man gruffly motioned her to step aside, and I think he said something else but my mind chose that moment to get distracted by whatever it was trying to slam into me. I closed my eyes, took a deep, heavy breath, and focused in on the voices arguing next to me.

"—can't go down there. I don't know what it is, dad, but look at him! Something's affecting him to the point where…" She paused, and I cracked open a lid in time to see her shift nervously and look down, "It's like how you were describing what happens to ghosts when they come near Sector Five."

Damon's grip tightened, and I shook my head, snapping out of whatever delirium was about to try and take me over again. "I can't walk down there," I told him honestly. "It…I—I can't." The security guard looked me up and down, his lip twitching in anger. I could tell there was a question he was about to ask, but, to my surprise, he simply gave a gentle smile of reassurance.

With that, my arm was hoisted over his shoulders, fingers kneaded into my abdomen and I felt my feet literally lift off the ground a centimeter. Damon Grey grunted with his effort, "Help me carry him, Val."

"Wh—what?" Her startled voice practically mirrored the panic suddenly striking up inside of me…but I was too close to _it_ to make any motion against what was happening. Damon stepped forward, and I swear he said something forceful about absolutely _not_ going down that way again, and…they had to hurry up, or…whatever it was…

I basically felt like all of my strength just got sucked out of my bones right then. Apparently, whatever _it_ was wanted to try a new approach every time I got near it. Had to be, for this time instead of my body stiffening I became a complete and total deadweight, unable to do anything more than feel it as my body wished itself into a dark and eternal sleep…

My eyes closed, lulled by this sort of nauseating desire to curl up into a ball and rest for as long as I could possibly manage. This…wasn't so bad. Not like the last time, now was it? A tiny smile alighted my lips (that is, if I could actually move them); I was perfectly content to subject myself to a good, long, nap…

You'd think I would have watched enough movies to see _this one_ coming. Chicken Dumplings! It was part of my _livelihood_ to lull people into a false sense of security! So _why _on Earth was I so shocked when that _thing_ suddenly reared its ugly head? Perhaps it was because I hadn't expected it to show up in that, _particular_, form.

The Box Ghost never was very threatening. Then again, this wasn't _really_ the Box Ghost. He sneered at me from atop a scorched tree branch, glaring with deep red eyes, his grin widening. "You look so small," my own voice danced within my ears, coming from that mouth, taunting.

I spread my lips to respond, but no sound came out. Laughter echoed around the darkness. _My_ laughter. "You have no say here!" The Box Ghost leapt, beast-like down to the ground. He crouched, nearly on all fours, and licked his teeth hungrily. "You are nothing more than a mere cockroach; a tad harder to kill, but…"

Daggers replaced fingernails and the Box Ghost shifted toward me, maniac giggles escaping his throat inconsistently, "But I can still kill you." My feet refused to move out of the way when he lunged, and my shout went unheard, unable to make any sound at all as those sharp, blood covered points of steel dove at my neck.

It happened so fast—the thick, angry set of nails swerving to catch my chest, running a long and bloody set of scratches down the front—I almost didn't register that I wasn't dead. The Box Ghost hopped away, frowning deeply. "No fun! What did you do?" He glared pointedly at me, hissing, "_Fine_. _There's more than one way to kill you_."

Those eyes, red and hateful, were the only things that didn't change with the rest of _its_ body. Again, Maddie was standing before me, a casual hand on her hip. She came close, a predatory smile on her face. "Hello, Vlad." _It_ was still using my voice. My eyes tightened in response, and my soul froze, building a sort of fury at the thing.

Impersonate _my_ love? Rob me of _my_ voice? Take away the uses of _my_ body? _My_ defense? _Coward_! The other times I'd come across this _thing_, I was horrified; I didn't know what it was. Still don't. My eyes tightened, and I forced my fist to clench. The GIW made this _thing_. No matter what _it_ says or does to me, I'm still a far better inventor than those _idiots_. And something _they_ have created will not defeat _me_.

I'm not entirely aware if _it_ realized that I wasn't going to stand around and let _it_ taunt me anymore, nor did I rightly care. My teeth clenched, my leg muscles twitched, and I mentally threw myself at the _thing_ as it morphed—right into the form I'd been half expecting to appear. It was my ghost form I was tackling, closing my fingers around my own throat.

"You—!" My ghost half glared, struggling, "You can't actually think you'll _win_?!" I bit my lip, squinting. There was no way I could speak in response, but I couldn't help but wonder…this wasn't anything like whatever it was I'd experienced before. Here I was, attacking an image of myself that had decided to do things to taunt me, hurt me slowly.

Before, it was a blind force wreaking havoc on everything that I was. This thing…whatever _it_ was, could it be…intelligent? Or am I…hallucinating? Trapped inside of a dream of my own creation? Either way, the GIW had created _it_. And here I am. Strangling it. My lips twitched in a feral grin. Just like I will the entire organization.

The _thing_ writhing underneath me suddenly stopped, red eyes boring into me, and it too grinned. My form melted into Daniel's ghost half, and his hands gripped my arms painfully. "You…" It was the boy's voice. "…and I will kill each other, Frootloop." He laughed, unexpectedly, and vanished into a grey mist. I sat there, heaving fistfuls of dampened air as my surroundings changed.

My body was gruffly propped up against a wall. "I can't take you any further," a heavy voice grumbled. "You two will have to make it across the fence on your own. He should come around soon." I felt more than saw Valerie crouch and place a hand on my forehead.

"He screamed back there," Valerie whispered. "What…_happened_, dad?" I opened my eyes, blinking into the star lit darkness. The girl was looking up at her father, who had folded his arms and was staring pointedly at me. I tried to say something, but found that my throat ached horribly and refused to make a sound. I'd screamed?

Damon sniffed, turning away. "Just make sure my employers never get their hands on him, Valerie. I can't say much, but…" He sighed, "They've been _itching_ for an excuse to get him in here. He and that kid you went to school with before it shut down…Danny, right?"

The security guard didn't wait for an answer, instead marching off all soldier-like inside. I cautiously swayed to my feet, sparing a questioning glance at Valerie. Tentatively, I held out a hand for the papers clutched between her fingers. She gave them over to me, eyes clearly asking if I was alright.

I simply walked towards the bushes, legs shaking. I was outside. Good. Disoriented? A little. Better than last time. How much time did we have left? The lack of artificial light, even out here, told me that the power was still out. But it didn't say a thing about what time it was, so I had virtually no clue how much longer we had before escape.

_And the boy?_ I asked myself, frowning. If he's out he's already over the fence and hiding. If not, I'll wait for him there. Gesturing for Valerie to catch up, I pointed to the fence. "Ladies first." I croaked. She mutely jumped at the fence, climbing nimbly over and dropping to the other side.

I pushed the haphazard stack of papers underneath the wiring for her to grasp before following suit. Together, we retreated into the brush. "Danny should be coming out at that gate," I whispered, indicating a place about 100 yards of fencing and an open expanse of grass away. "And if he's already out, he'll be there." I shifted in a direct line, making our destination a place perfectly in front of the gate Danny was supposed to leave at.

Valerie, bless her training for not asking too many questions in situations such as these, rushed on. I picked my way slowly behind, warily watching the gray building. Outside, it wasn't nearly as confusing as the twisting labyrinth within. I had to keep myself from stopping to inspect the hands on my watch; it wouldn't do to remind myself just how little time we had left.

When the girl and I come to the place I had initially pointed out, we spent little time deducing that Daniel was yet to leave the building. I settled myself to wait, stealing away the papers from Valerie a second time and trying to read them. It was too dark to make out any text, but it was clear to me that this shuffled stack of reports had been shuffled to a point beyond the GIW's normal quality of disorganization. Fantastic.

"Mr. Masters?" Valerie wondered, finally seeming to realize I wasn't in the mood to speak with her. "As much as I'd like to ask about what it is that you're holding…and that whole…fainting thing you did earlier. But…you _might_ want to look up."

I did so, pushing all other thought aside as I saw Danny turn back to the doorway, frantically gesturing. Lancer raced out a second later, and together they were heaving the door shut; they arched around, racing across the expanse of grass as silently as they could almost directly towards us. I knew when Daniel caught my eye, for a mad smile split his all-too serious face for just a moment.

I held down a chuckle, pulling Valerie into a crouch with me so we could wait until they got to us. _You idiot,_ I thought fondly, _you've made it._ "Perhaps he's not as bad as his father after all, Ms. Grey."

The lights came on.

The boy and Lancer froze in the sudden myriad of floodlights encompassing them. "I think I…spoke too soon…" My own shocked voice mumbled as a double line of white clad troops busted open the doors, racing to encompass the two humanoids. I could hear a muffled demand come from one of the ring leaders as he stepped towards the boy, weapon aiming at his chest.

Danny and Lancer's hands flew into the air in response, that universal symbol for peace. "_What are you holding?"_ Rang out across the clearing, and Daniel slowly allowed his arms to drop so he could inspect the empty folder clutched between his fingers. The boy frowned, his shoulders dropping in a sort of defeat. I could practically hear the almost-sigh drifting out of his lips.

Danny's face twisted into that of pain, and he looked right at me. Inside those broken down eyes, it…clicked. _Ghost Experimentation/Decimation._ I quickly shook my head, _no_. They were going to know we were fishing for files. They were going to know someone else had the _actual_ papers. We can't let them—but—_no_! There was only one possible way to keep this from them.

And he'd already realized that. Daniel blinked away tears, mouthing something that was eerily reminiscent of the word "_Sorry_," as the folder was engulfed in a bright, green, _achingly beautiful_ spectral fire. Red, blaring alarms immediately screeched across the entire building, ecto-detectors ringing madly all around.

It took 5.43 seconds for the guards surrounding to deduce that Daniel must have been overshadowed. 3.69 seconds for them to switch their gun settings to spectral tranquilizers. …And less than one second to fire, simultaneously, at his chest.

The boy (and his former teacher, caught in the crossfire) dropped. I watched, numb, as they picked both forms up and carried them inside, only one guard slowed, peering into the darkness he couldn't see. Reluctantly, Damon Grey followed the procession of men back into that horrible labyrinth.

A moment of silence fell between Valerie and I. I was the first to break the monotony, glancing down at the files in the now too-bright reflected lighting. Valerie shifted. "…What was it my dad said about the GIW wanting to get their hands on Danny?" her broken voice inquired.

I swallowed heavily, hands beginning to shake. "Never mind that…" I replied, setting aside the files so I could unbutton my shirt. I twisted my torso, a strangled form of panic sliding over all coherencies my mind held. "I think I just found out what the GIW are up to."

Four long scratches still lazily oozing blood onto my pants, and the large black and blue bruise forming around my neck. Valerie stuttered out words that I guess were meant to form questions, as if my brain was expected to decipher her sentences. I, personally, couldn't find it in myself to speak.

But that could be due to the fact that I'd nearly strangled myself to death.

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**Hah. Wow. That was long...**

**Thank you Amazing Bluie! You're an awesome editor! And thank you, my dear readers, for stopping by. ;)**

**~Catalyst**


	39. Let's Trade

**Okay, so, this one's for AnneriaWings, the awesome writer of "Lab Rat", continuer of Cori's "Lost", current writer of "Project: Album Phasma", and owner of a host of drabble hungry plot bunnies that will bleed epicsauce. :3 I decided to give her a little advertisement, can you tell? And, to go with the theme of her fantastic writing skills, here's an angsty one. ^^**

**Hehe, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer fluff: I don't. **

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**Let's Trade**

* * *

Its arms crossed while wearing a sardonic smile, "So, I hear you figured out that Masters has a ghostly side." It nodded approvingly, "Although, really, I'm not surprised the old coot has let the cat out of the bag."

Valerie wavered, her gun lowering slowly as she inspected the creature pacing in front of her. "Who...what do you know about that?"

It chuckled, dark red eyes flashing momentarily, "More than you could hope to imagine, child." It stopped, cocked its head, odd blue strands that trickled around his left eye and shifted like some sort of sea anemia, dancing and sparking at random, flashed ever so slightly before settling back down.

"What?" it asked, a hand moving up to gently caress the thing. "You don't like my little _parasite_?" An intense bitterness coated the ghost's tone as it spun around to glare impatiently at the dark alley wall.

Before Valerie could lift her pistol back up in response to the warning bells ringing in her mind, he was nose to nose with her, grinning madly. One eye glowed ominously, too bright as the thing shrouding it began to sparkle with more intensity. "It's keeping me from killing you," it chuckled and moved away. "You should be thankful I'm on a leash."

That was it. Her gun snapped to attention, perfectly ready to blast its head off. "What do you know about Vlad Masters?" she growled, eyes tightening. "Tell me everything. _Now_!"

He didn't seem to hear her, instead drifting into a cross-legged position that bobbed unnaturally three feet above the floor. Its eyes closed, the blue tentacle-like things drained their intense light source down to a dull pulse, and it folded its arms in what reminded her almost like a monk. If he weren't adorned in a ritzy suit that must have sucked itself right out of the 1950's and instead wore something more…monk-like, she could almost see it.

Although, the pointed ears, blue skin, and red-feathered fedora kind of ruined the image. Valerie set her teeth, unsure of the thing that had patiently settled itself in front of her, "Well?"

"You don't even know my name, do you?" it drawled, not bothering to open his eyes. "We don't even know each other and you're trying to pump information out of me. How polite. …Well, that is, _you_ don't know _me_."

She paused, a glare going seemingly unnoticed by the specter. She charged her ecto-weapon, "I don't care what your name is, _ghost_."

His eyes snapped open, a furious glint hiding inside of them, "Now, you see, Valerie, _this_ is why I never liked you."

"Don't try to fool me, ghost, you don't know me!" she spat, effectively deciding that he wasn't worth another sentence. She fired at its chest.

It absorbed her shot like nothing had happened, a wicked smirk adorning his vampiric teeth. "Well, that was…pointless." It rushed in close, swiping the gun out of her fingers and pinning her shoulders to the wall in one fluid motion. "You didn't ask," the ghost indicated the bright blue light once again steadily blinking around his eye, "I'm kind of disappointed. Why don't you ask me now?"

"Let—me…go!" She breathed, kicking out to an intangible lower body.

He stared her down. "Ask," he repeated.

Valerie struggled, wildly trying to reach her weapon, a useless ten feet away. He lifted a brow and waited calmly, not even seeming to break a sweat with the rabid teenager flailing underneath his strong fingers.

It wasn't too long before she realized the effort would get her nowhere. Breathing heavily, Val relaxed her arms, "_What_?"

He sneered, a waft of frozen breath brushing her nose, "The idiot decided to infuse me with _kindness. _My soul has been putting up a fantastic fight, but, as you can see, I've taken some casualties." Here he made a motion that encompassed his clothing as a whole, "Look, see? I'm '_civil._' I'm so civil, I've failed to do exactly what I want to with you."

"Which is?" Valerie lashed out, trying and failing to strike him when her hand shot right through its chest.

He sighed heavily. "Kill you. You see, I have such a brilliant kill count!" The ghost tightened his grip on her shoulders painfully before suddenly twisting his wrist and tossing her, much like a rag doll, onto the ground—opposite of where her ecto-pistol lay.

It crouched, a hand gently warning Val not to scramble any further than the awkward propped-up-on-elbows predicament she'd been able to painfully scoot up to. "This thing," the blue whispers of light flickered, "Isn't doing much to destroy my hatred of you, unfortunately. It's likely you'll get out of this with a few broken bones."

Valerie shuddered…did he just sound regretful?

Sure enough, a sad smile was the next expression she saw. "Oh, my kill count was so _high_…unbeatable, you could say..." it trailed off, unfocused, before looking back to her and winking. "I was almost up to six billion lives. A few cells that needed destroying here and there, and I'd be done." The smile twisted into a frown. "Nine cities, to be precise. Last ones standing…all thanks to you, you little rodent." He patted her leg affectionately.

"I don't know what you're talking about, ghost, but your _delusional!_" Valerie attempted to jerk her ankle back, but found it to be held in an iron grip. She muttered a few curses in frustration. "First off, there are six billion people on the _planet_. And, if you haven't taken a step outside, ghost, _they're still around_."

"Second," another vain try for freedom was put down when he caught her fist too easily, "I don't even know you, so there's _no way_ I'm the reason you haven't taken down nine random cities or whatever."

His laughter was more like barking than anything else, "You ignorant child!" A spasm of electricity fizzled into her body and a painful yelp tore out of her throat. "You're a lot more fun being this young and clueless, you know? The older version of you was so _pesky_."

He hopped away, a hand considerably brushing through the strands of white glowing hair that was pinned in a careful tie behind his head. "I was _supposed_ to be your future, Valerie. Lucky for you a friend of yours decided to change that…although, I doubt he really cared that I was making your existence a living Hell."

Very cautiously, Valerie swayed to her feet, finding that the jolt of ecto-fire had considerably skewed her senses to the point where she had to lean on the wall for balance. "Insane," she mumbled. "You're insane."

The ghost was next to her, placing a helpful hand on her shoulder in a bizarre mood swing. "Yes, I am," it shrugged. "How about an exchange, Red? You want information on Vladimir, don't you?"

"Yeah," she said without really thinking, inching towards her pistol.

"Oh, goody!" He patted her shoulder, "Then we have a deal."

"Wait." She blinked, dazed, "What's in it for you?"

He ignored the question, strutting over to her gun and scooping it up. "Vlad, he's a sticky one. Highly obsessive, a little on the dark side. His weakness is in his humanity, of course. Can't stand to lose some of those things that make humans…well, human."

The weapon was surrounded with an eerie green glow. "He clings to money, power, and, most of all, _control_. The one thing he hates more than anything is losing that sense of control." With a strangled _pop_ her pistol dissolved into a liquid and dripped onto the alley floor. "All you have to do is make him lose that," he phased the remains of the ecto-gun off of his fingers, "and he'll snap."

Blood red eyes glinted when they met hers, a feral grin twisting about the ghosts lips. Valerie gulped. "I…that's, er, great. I—I have to go."

The blue strands dancing around his eye glowed dangerously, a sort of hum vibrating off of it. The ghost lifted a hand, tugging at the thing as its hum grew into a screech—a noise that ended abruptly when he managed to peel it off and toss the blue glow to the ground. There it curled in on itself and steadily vanished from the scene.

The ghost grinned darkly, "Hah. We haven't completed our exchange yet…"

He stepped forward and his suit melted off into the air, to be replaced with a very familiar symbol that accompanied a much altered jumpsuit. A flame jumped in his hair until it consumed the fedora and red feather alike. He chuckled, "_You're not going anywhere_."

In the apartment building sitting on Chaucer Street, an old woman woke with a start. She could have sworn she'd just heard a distant scream.

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**Drat exams! D: I haven't updated in too long. They're almost done, though. Got my AP ones out of the way...so there's only the end-of-the-year ones to go! :3**

**To my editer: You rock! :) Thank you for making my work shine, AmazingBluie.**

**~Catalyst**


	40. Messes

**Um, so...I haven't written anything in forever. Haven't updated in forever. D: I'm such a bad author. Bad bad bad. Must...give...sibling bonding apology!**

**I don't own Danny Phantom.**

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**Messes**

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Jazz opened the door and stepped out, inspecting the empty street with a slight frown, "Door-ding ditch?"

I rolled my eyes, "Package for mom and dad, oh smart one." A finger pointed to the simple box resting out-of-the-way on our porch.

My sister scowled lightly at me before swooping to pick up the box, "Sarcasm is an output of aggression, little brother." She came inside and gave my hair a scuffle, "Should I tell your psychiatrist about this incident?"

"Somehow I have a feeling she already knows." I grinned and snagged the box from her hands and shook it for a moment, listening for whatever it was that'd be rattling around inside. Barely a shift in movement or weight, and telling by the lack of sound I bet it's packed in pretty tigh—

"Doesn't that say fragile?" Jazz folded her arms, "Just put it on the counter, Danny, you'll find out what it is when mom and dad get home."

I scoffed, "Jazz, this is one of three things: something mom ordered to hunt me with, something Vlad sent to hunt me with, or…" I pursed my lips and shook the package one more time before flipping it onto the table, "Or it's the Box Ghost."

She hesitated for only a moment before a defeated sigh escaped her lips, "I'll go get some scissors."

"No need!" With a wild grin I flicked up a clawed hand, focusing green energy into my nails before I swooped down and cut a steaming line through the tape. My smile tightened, "Now that's how you open a box!"

"You set the cardboard on fire." Jazz deadpanned.

I sniffed dramatically, "Nothing a little ice couldn't handle. Look, you can barely see the scorch marks."

She held her fingers up to her nose, "Let's just hope the smell's gone by the time mom and dad get back." I felt her knees hit the ground when she settled herself next to me, "You going to open it?"

"I'm pausing for dramatic effect."

"Danny—"

"Shh!" My finger flew up to seal her lips and I let my eyes get wide and amazed, "A whole world of dangerous and evil torture devices could be contained in this box. A ghost of square and cardboard intentions! Or perhaps, even, a _pie_!"

Jazz brushed my hand away and tossed open the lid, "_Or_, it's a bunch of packing peanuts."

"You totally just sucked the fun out of the moment." I deflated slowly, "Now I can't even remove the peanuts with careful slowness!" Stealing the package from my sister before she could ruin all the fun, I unceremoniously tipped it over and watched a shower of fluff pour out of the box.

Jazz snapped foreword and took the box right back, "Danny, _fragile_!"

"It's also kill-Danny weaponry." I smirked, "Who cares if it breaks?"

"Who cares if it explodes?" She shot back pointedly. "Be careful little brother, you've got humans in the room."

I glanced at the way the oak in our coffee table was shaped in its wave-like typical wooden pattern. "Yeah. Sorry."

Her eyes softened and I again felt my hair ruffle, "Just a reminder, little brother."

I shrugged dismissively, finally returning my attention to the package where, wouldn't you know, another box awaited. "Mom got something off an actual business?" Jazz asked in surprise, "It doesn't even have a military seal."

I dug my hands into the static remains of styrofoam and tugged the item out – it actually was in pretty tight, "Don't tell me mom got something _normal_?"

My sister lifted a brow, "Is that…a scale?"

"Like the ones we have in class?" I blinked at the picture plastered across the front and in a wash of simple blues and light yellows was a black flat and thick scale displaying the weight of some invisible item. "Awe, man, no screaming metal deathtrap?"

Jazz scoffed, "Thought you'd be thankful."

"I'm thankful for the stuff that I can blow up and blame on a bad energy reactor." I set the box back on the coffee table and, in a moment of pure impulsiveness, flung all of the peanuts onto the linoleum flooring.

My sister sighed, staring at the ground in defeat. "…Mom and dad are going to be mad about this mess."

I nodded in a look of bored carelessness. "So…wanna make angels?"

Jazz glanced at me, skepticism dripping off of her in waves. "You want to roll around on the dirty floor for like small children, kicking styrofoam peanuts all over the living room?"

"Yup."

A slow, feral smile befell my sister's features, "Let me go get my camera."

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**Dedicated to my fifteen year old little brother, who cleaned up the peanuts and re-sealed the box so expertly mom never noticed. :3 **

**~Catalyst**


	41. Puppy Madness

**Thanks to my magnificent editor and title-maker, Amazing Bluie.**

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**Puppy Madness**

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I held the pen securely between my teeth, watching with acute care as the dog raced down the hallway, crashing lockers and sending students in a screaming flurry in every which direction. My hands were placed in a supreme gesture upon my hips, my eyes tightening in calculation.

Two fingers stretched up to catch the falling utensil as my tongue pushed it aside for a more important purpose. Speech. "STOP," I commanded, voice clear and carrying over huddling whimpers of students, the incessant barking of a giant ghost dog, and the crunching of shattered metal. The dog's ears lifted, his giant nose pointing to face me, a great snout sniffing the air that swirled around my body.

"Come," I said, quieter, but with an unwavering authority. The edge jutting into my voice was a careful concoction of rage and self-control. "_Now_." The message was clear. Cujo's great head tucked downwards, tail hiding underneath his legs. I shook my head and pointed to the place in front of me. "Do I need to say it again?" My eyes flashed only long enough for him to see I wasn't kidding.

A strangled cry came from the students of Casper High that were lying low on the floor, terror dancing in their eyes as the dog's great bulk bound across the hall. I ignored their stunned fear and snapped my fingers the moment Cujo was close. He paused, looked at me with that guilty, unwilling expression. My feet shifted forward, a threat. "Deform." I said aloud, snapping my fingers again.

Dipping his bulk low to the ground, his green glow increased, then faded. He was smaller, but not by much. I shook my head. "All. The. Way." In response I got the huff equivalent to a doggy-sigh. He glowed again and shrank down to his least intimidating, puppy form. Still crouched low to the ground, he looked up at me and whimpered pathetically.

I folded my arms. "Yeah. You _know_ you're in trouble." I lifted an eyebrow at his great puppy eyes and the way he skittered to place his jaw on top of my right foot. "I'm not falling for that," I informed him. He blinked once. Then, quite suddenly, threw his back to the floor and stuck little paws in the air. His tail waved back and fourth, his pudgy little belly sticking up at me.

I wavered, but held strong by deepening my scowl. "You destroyed the hallway. Terrorized half the school. I'm going to need a new locker." He squirmed a little, snapped his teeth once, but otherwise kept that cute little inviting belly pointed at me, begging to get scratched.

"Then again…" I rubbed my tongue across the inside of my cheek, "I just got a perfect excuse not to have my chemistry homework done..." With a tired sigh, my legs collapsed into a folded position and my nails twitched to move across the ghost puppy's cold belly. He made a gruff yelp of agreement, and kicked his little feet at the air. I frowned playfully, "You're going to get me in trouble some day, you know that?"

"M-Mr. Fenton?" Lancer's shaking voice brought my eyes up to see him pressed against the doorframe of his classroom, shaking. Almost too slowly, my gaze swept across the hallway to find every pair of eyes locked on me and Cujo. I rolled my eyes. "What? I got a new dog."

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**Comedy/fluff. This is the result of reading something so ... _dark _that I _have _to write something to bring me back up. *sips uber caffinated tea* And I'm still not over the shake-y angst feeling, so I might just write more fluffy happy things.**

**Darn you Cordria. ._. Darn you.**

**~Catalyst**


	42. Danielle Gray

**Dedicated to the Raven. Danielle Gray is a girl in my gov class who kinda inspired the relationship below. Thanks to my editor, Amazing Bluie, for being amazing.**

**I do not own the characters below~**

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**Danielle Gray**

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The tinkle of dishes clashing underneath the heavy flow of kitchen water echoed around the apartment, two females trading sponges for drying towels in a practiced, habitual movement. Valerie tucked a stray hair behind her ear and glanced at her companion, "How was school?"

"Oh, you know…" Danielle shrugged, "It's high school."

Val's lips twitched downward, "Where's the chirpy smile and highlights of the day?" The older girl nudged her elbow into the younger one, "What happened?"

"Well…" Dani bit her lip, casting her gaze to the floor and shifting uncomfortably. The apartment echoed with a tense, questioning vibe that filled half-unpacked boxes, dripped over a slumping set of twin mattresses, but otherwise moved through a barren place, yet to be filled with clumps of mismatching furniture and chattering televisions.

The young girl heaved a deep breath. "I haven't really…made any friends yet. I mean, there was this one guy, once, but…I never really saw him again." She awkwardly twisted to place a few dishes in the lemon scented cabinet, still not quite used to their new position.

Valerie gave a stretched smile of encouragement, "You'll find friends. We've all had our moments. You'll catch up. It took me a while after I had to move out here with dad way back when, but…" Val's eyes steeled in an assured strength, "No matter how hard it seems, you make friends."

Danielle glared, "I think you're forgetting that I'm technically only three years old. I've never had to _make_ friends before, Val. And I have to pile the fact that I have no social life on top of this sudden freaking _mountain_ of homework that I will never ever get done in time, _ghosts_—which I can't hunt because you and Danny would probably lock me in a cage for eternity—and, oh, by the way, it doesn't help that I just so happen to be _intentionally programmed_ with the memory of a goldfish so that half the assignments I get _vanish_ after three seconds."

Valerie blinked. "How long have you been planning that rant?"

"For the past three hours," Dani grumbled. "How'd it sound?"

"Could use some more organization," Val commented dryly. "The cage part was a bit of a stretch. We wouldn't really lock you up for an eternity…probably a week." She winked, "Maybe two."

Danielle rolled her eyes, "I decided not to live with Danny _because_ of the stupid silly responses to every serious conversation I have. Is this how it's going to be with you?"

"I've never had a little sister before." The older girl smiled, "Cut me some slack." Her teasing grin faded into a gentle whisper. "You're going to make friends, Danielle. You turned me into a friend – and that's quite an accomplishment, seeing as half the time I had a gun pointed at you."

"You don't count," the other girl huffed.

"Of course I don't." Valerie sighed. "You're really that stressed, huh?"

Danielle paced her towel in small, simple circles around the edge of a bowl. "You have no idea," she whispered, the edge of her vocals seeming to waver and crack just underneath distinct hearing, a cold shiver drifting in and out of the room before it could be thoroughly recognized.

Valerie hesitated, unsure of what to say. Eventually she settled on a simple hug, not forgetting to notice that Danielle instantly stiffened and securely pushed her arms closer to her midsection. With a tired, awkward movement Val pulled away and brushed her fingers through Danielle's gleaming black hair, "How's the self esteem?"

Dani shrugged, turning her face away and pretending to concentrate on placing her dinner plate in the cabinet. "That was a random question," she breathed, hesitating between two separate stacks of dishes.

"No, it wasn't," Valerie argued. "Trust me; I've had more conversations with Jazz Fenton than you. How's your self esteem?"

Danielle glared, but it softened almost instantly into something far more vulnerable and unsure of itself. "I don't know. I'm not exactly confident. Does it matter?"

"Of course it matters," Valerie smiled softly, "You know, when I lost my home and my friends all that while ago, I didn't feel all that great either—I ran through seven counselors and a ferret before I managed to bounce back. I'm sure it's just a matter of—"

"Have you ever had to struggle with the concept that you're just a mistake?" Dani interjected sourly. "Ever had to admit that you're just a stupid failure that shouldn't exist? Have you ever felt like stepping out of your "comfort zone" was just another way for you to show people how much of an idiotic, _useless_ piece of junk you are?"

Danielle slammed the cabinet shut, swirling to place her red, nearly tear-stricken face in front of Valerie. A stunned, worried silence ensued. Danielle stopped Val from saying anything with her curt, strong tone, "You don't. No one does."

With an angry, broken snivel, Danielle stormed past her friend and raced to her bedroom—making the small, unfilled apartment shudder with the force she used to slam her door.

Valerie stood, folding her arms and tipping her head to the side, a strong, flooding cry of worry calling silently back to the girl. In an inaudible murmur, she spoke.

"God, please, _someone_…tell me how to help her." Shakily, she propped her elbows against the counter, "Because I just don't know what to say anymore."

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**So, what would _you _say?**

**~Catalyst**


	43. The Basics

**I have been maddeningly busy recently. Just two or three days ago I found my first few hours of free time in the past month and chose to write with them. Didn't feel like doing anything else, like one of my chapter stories or editing stuff...I simply was too burned out to focus beyond Oneshot.**

**Happy Halloween, or in my case, obscure Germany (Hetalia) Cosplay day.  
**

**I do not own the characters below~**

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**The Basics**

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I tapped my foot empathetically to the beat, slinging my shoulders back and focusing on ducking my toes in and out so that my feet spread slowly apart. With an expert skill an air guitar formed mid-jump as I played with a perfect tempo, my body twirling dramatically and a feral grin itching across my face.

_Knock, knock_.

I froze, stiffening instantly into an upright position. My heart sped up into a maddening flutter, and the stereo was switched off faster than the buttons could handle. "Come in?" I asked, kicking a pile of dirty laundry in the general direction of my laundry basket in a half-thought that mom was behind that door.

Jazz poked her head around the cracked wood, much to my personal relief. I smiled faintly and hopped to teeter on the edge of my messed up bed, wiping a dirty sock off the edge and offering her a seat by my side. Her nose curled, "Um, no thanks, Danny. I think I'll stand."

She walked the rest of the way in, softly closing my bedroom door behind her—she had a little trouble at first with that thick coating of duck tape wrapped on the top of it (a safety precaution for that nasty crack that's begun to grow every time I tried get my door to fit with the doorframe). In a most uncomfortable gesture, my sister wrapped her arms heavily around her torso, a worried crease in her forehead as she inspected the chaos that was my room. "You going to clean this place anytime soon?"

"If I did that, I'd have no idea where anything was," I scolded simply, tucking my hands behind my head and falling back on a clump of twisted blanket. "Besides, it'll just get messy again." I rolled over in time to see her compose the disgusted look on her face into something more of a calm mask. "You came here for a reason, right?" I wondered, "Or was I just playing my music too loud?"

Hesitantly, she tore her gaze off of my mixture of plates and chemistry homework to my eyes. "I wanted to talk to you about all of your ghost stuff."

I blinked. "Broad topic." Sitting up and tucking my legs into the generic crisscross look, I settled for some wise look of…I don't know, seriousness or something. "What do you want to know? Powers, Ghost Zone…um, the Box Ghost?" I made sure to let my expression settle to a defeated sense of boredom, "Is this about my sanity?" I rolled my eyes, "_Again_?"

"No…" Jazz bit her lip, "I wanted to ask about—well, you know, your um…_species_, I guess." She scowled. "It doesn't sound like a very correct term, but that's the only way I can put it."

"Try halfa." I suggested, lifting a skeptical eyebrow. "Actually, scratch that. Halfa's a stupid name. Half-ghost works for me." I rolled my eyes and propped my elbows on my knees and my chin on my palms—I was really fidgety today for no reason. Must be the music-adrenaline still pumping through my system. "What exactly do you want to know about half-ghosts?"

Jazz shifted her feet, stared at the ground. "When you change into a ghost, what changes?" She whispered softly, adding almost too quickly, "Your emotions, sense of perception, vision capabilities…" The seriousness in her eyes struck me as particularly odd when she looked back towards me, the heavy-set frown worked onto her lips a little strange. "Physical, mental, everything."

I leaned back and propped my hands behind me, rolling my tongue around in my mouth for a moment. "Mom and dad are still at the store, right?"

"Yeah." She breathed.

In a flash of silvery light I became Phantom, letting go of gravity and allowing myself to hover a foot above my mattress. "Difference number one is definitely taste, now that I think about it." I mentioned, the sticky and polarized charge of saliva warring in my mouth. "When I first change it's a mix of ecto-charged saliva and the human stuff. It's a tingly, weird sensation at first—I'm still not quite used to it, but it goes away after a minute or so."

Almost with too much eagerness Jazz had a pen and pad of paper to scribble on—probably something I didn't bother to notice clenched in her fingers earlier and a little annoying to watch. Like she's not going to _remember_ every word I say, what with the mind of an elephant. For a moment I debated giving her time to write after I say something, but decided to forgo being polite; now was a great time to see if she knew shorthand.

"Next is obviously gravity. It doesn't really exist anymore—for me or anything that I touch and extend my ghostly non-gravityness to." I would have done some ghostly bobbing-in-the-air thing, but she wasn't even looking at me. That'd be a waste of thought-command…I bobbed a little anyway because it burned in the back of my mind and bugged me that I hadn't when I thought of it. I hate it when I have to do things on compulsion like that.

Oh well. I feel better now. That's what counts. "My temperature drops, but I don't notice it. You'd think that calling up my ghost form would be like looking in the back of my mind for some cold, deathly item, but it's really more like flexing a muscle you're not used to flexing, like intentionally pricking your ears or folding your tongue. It just happens, you don't know how or why, but it doesn't make you feel much different other than that."

My sister nodded slowly, an intent whir of her pen scratching on the paper's surface. "You never told me why you're asking this?"

"I'll let you know when we finish." Her red hair streamed over her face when she glanced shortly at me before turning back, ready on her notebook, "What else?"

"I bet it's some psychology thing." I muttered. "If I find out you're writing a book on me I'll hire the Box Ghost to haunt you for it. Just a warning." She didn't answer—kinda sad, I wanted to get a giggle or a defensive glare or something in response. …Eh. Whatever. Not that important. I don't even know how the Box Ghost would stay on task with a haunting anyway, he has no interest in non-cubular things.

…Is that even a word, cubular? I breathed out a heavy sigh, "Right. Um…I don't feel that much pain, obviously. That's mainly because "physical items" from the human world can't hurt ghosts. I guess it's because I'm suddenly on a different plane of existence or in a different state of matter—if you slam me into a wall here, I can get up without a bruise—it's more the power that ghost put in their punch that really gives headaches. If I'm a ghost in the Ghost Zone, however, head first into a wall hurts, well, just about as much as it sounds."

"Interesting." Jazz muttered, more to herself, I assume. I think now would be a good time to stop and let her get all that information down, but a new thought had struck me and I was likely to forget it if I stopped now. "Emotions are weird. If I'm having a power trip and getting really mad or depressed; feeling a lot of my own emotion, I can pull other emotions out of the air and convert them to energy. It doesn't work in the wild because animals aren't the best generators. They're just too skittish and spastic."

She scribbled and nodded. I think that means she's getting it down. She must know shorthand after all. "Otherwise, I'm not too aware of the emotions around me unless if someone else is feeling something really, _really_ extreme—but it has to be a really crippling emotion, like _pure_ "ghost rage" or the emotions rolling off a kid who just lost his parents to cancer or something…actually, I've felt it a tiny bit when people lose pets, too. Not as strong. More like a faint pulse."

"Transforming," I'm skipping around, I know. Maybe that's why she brought the pen and paper—to organize this later. Darn it. She knows me too well. "Transforming is a fizzle-y weird thing that always makes my human heart do this weird twisting-back flip thing. If I really listen or put a finger to my pulse before and after transformation, my human heart jumps like a jackrabbit and then my ghostly one slows it down into something beyond unhealthy for any person less than a super epic athlete from Kenya or some other remote place that I haven't heard of."

"Ghosts don't need to move around much." I mentioned, noticing that I had basically ceased all movement that had plagued my warm body just minutes before. "Discomfort and the need to move that always comes with being human doesn't happen with ghosts. We don't need to fidget or shift legs or stretch muscles or anything. Partially the zero-gravity thing and also the dead thing. I still need to stretch occasionally, but that's mostly due to the fact that I still have a heartbeat."

"And breathing?" My sister wondered. "Is there an extended amount of time you can hold your breath, or do you even need to breathe at all?"

To make myself feel better, I took in a deep, long gulp of air. With the exhale that was more of a yawn, I responded. "All ghosts breathe—mostly because they need to talk and air is the easiest way to get vocal chords moving, but also for the sake of powerful attacks that come through vocals—Ember and myself being primary examples. Personally, I need air all the time, but I can hold my breath comfortably for four minutes, I think." I shrugged. "I don't know for sure. I've never timed it."

I paused, rubbing my tongue across the back of my teeth—one of those habit things you pick up throughout life, like when mom plays with her earring without thinking about it or when dad starts humming without ever taking note of doing so. For a moment I considered mentioning that those little quirks don't change, but classified it as too unimportant to mention.

"I really don't know what else to mention right now, Jazz." I said, my mind going through an idea block of what else to say. With a soft _thump_ my human body fell back onto the bed, stretching out on top of a lumpy pillow and a pair of jeans I hadn't bothered to move out of the way. "I could say that I get a little disoriented and dizzy when I slip back into a human, but it's not like there's much of a huge change. My ghost form really _feels_ like my human one—I don't gain supersight or superhearing and I don't gain x-ray vision when changing form. It's just…natural."

"Natural?" My sister's tone held more than a hint of disbelief.

Hmph. She's _obviously_ never died before. "Yup." I flung my arms behind my head and stared at the ceiling. "So why'd you come in here?"

"I'm just comparing notes." My head twisted to follow the sound of her retreating to my door. "Surprisingly, yours and Vlad's transformation experiences are very different." With a soft click the door closed, and I was left staring at that round and shiny handle, mouth literally agape, for a full ten minutes.

With a slow shake of my head I twisted to flip my stereo back on, but lost the energy to do much beyond sitting up and rubbing a sudden and painful knot in my neck.

...And to think, she calls _me _crazy.

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**See? I was too busy even to care that this was really more of list of my "Danny facts" than a oneshot. Too bad. ;) At least I'm updating.**

**~Catalyst**


	44. The Facts in the Case of M Vlademar

**I needed a Halloween fic. So badly that I wrote it in the scant time of an hour and a half. Or, well, I have the fic just before this one - but I've slipped into a habit, that in the case of my October/Halloween oneshots at least one MUST be by the title of a work of Edgar Allan Poe. And the chapter before this already had a title.**

**This hasn't been edited by my epicsauce editor. Let's see how well it goes. ;)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters below. :3**

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**The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar

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**

The mirror reflected my tight blue eyes, my haunty and striking jaw, the long, deft fingers that worked a red tie into place, and the deep, red rose that stuck awkwardly between my teeth. A twist of a knot, the tightening of a lace, and my lips were freed of a prickly green stem.

Staring down now, at those satin and silky pedals, I inspected the small flaws that would forever twine around the edges of any great flower, slight dips or tears that cast every flower away from the other. This particular specimen had a perfect almost closed yet perfectly open shape. I smiled gently at the thing, turning it between two calloused hands until my wrists turned in such a way that the corner of my eye was caught by a shiny, golden watch.

Two minutes to eight. A casual glance was cast toward the phone, but I didn't linger on it for too long. Instead, my heavy and long legs trailed over to the sofa, and I placed the gentle rose on top of a beautiful card that carried loops of sparkling black handwriting. _Not long,_ I assured myself, _it won't be long at all_.

Suddenly, a soft thud echoed in my ears, and my head swiveled to inspect the door, a casual brow drifting upward in question. I was sure that the phone would…oh well. I crossed my fingers carefully over my chest, keeping them from shaking as well as I could and enjoyed the simple patter of footsteps move along a simple stairway.

Hesitation. Two cautious _knocks_. "Enter," I purred in such a tone that was only loud enough for someone who was truly _listening_ to hear. The doorknob twisted and opened upon my soft command, her red glimmer of hair sparkling through the entryway "You're on time."

"Are you surprised?" She asked, stepping in all the way and gently closing the door behind her. "I'm always on time, aren't I?"

"A mere compliment." I assured, beckoning her over to sit in the arm chair just across the coffee table. She was already on her way there, small, deft feet making sure not to touch a single one of the wine glasses scattered in perfect synchrony about the hardwood.

Her lips pursed upon reaching her destination, taking perfect note of the simple glass that held a cup of red wine just in front of her seat. "A new one…" She muttered, picking it up and placing it closer to the others in one smooth gesture, so that her feet could settle in front of the chair without fear.

I watched, my face the picture of calm. She finally managed to settle herself, crossing one leg over the other and settling her hands in her lap, that steady gaze of hers meeting mine in cool assurance. "Vlad," she nodded indication at the rose and letter, "Is that the homework?"

"Are you surprised?" I asked, leaning forward with a twisted gleam flickering across my eyes for the barest of moments, "I always do my homework, don't I?"

"A mere complement." She grinned in that foolish way before settling back into seriousness, and, even, dare I say it? Disgust. "Well, let's hear it."

I know that I have only imagined her flinch as I picked up the letter, fingertips tracing over the name so carefully embossed on the top of it. "Maddie." I read aloud, flipping it open carefully, "I…" I paused, frowning at those small, three words. How I wished…that they were more. That I could say more than what was here, that I could explain…in detail…

Oh well. "Maddie," I repeated, breathing in a heavy gulp of air and closing my eyes. "I'm sorry. – Vlad."

Jazz's eyes lit up with the light of a thousand suns. "Well said," she congratulated, "Hey, don't you look away—that was really well done! You said it with a whole lot of confidence that time."

I scowled and picked up my dented and imperfect rose, twisting it around to view every pock and dent. "I guess it was alright. A tad short."

"That was the whole point of it," Jazz corrected, pulling out a mini notebook and shifting it between both of her hands. "You're doing much better than six months ago. …But, what exactly is the significance of the rose?"

I shrugged. "It's beautiful, its colors are deep, and yet…" I pointed to one of the black spots on an outer petal. "Every rose has its small, almost insignificant imperfections, and yet the flower will act as symbols of beauty and love." I scowled at the thing and my fingers tightened around sharp thorns, "But it's a lie of a flower. It's infected. Broken. …_Diseased_, even."

"Who does the rose symbolize?" Jazz asked in a soft, kind tone. I turned away and didn't respond. She leaned in encouragingly, "This whole therapist thing won't work if you don't trust me. Danny has enough trouble accepting it as it is, if all of a sudden you stop progressing…"

"Is that a threat?" I snapped.

She smiled, "Merely an observation, my dear Vlad." Her tone was an obvious mockery of my own smooth voice.

I don't think I was conscious of the feral grin that itched across my face until I made it vanish, "The rose isn't anyone. It's a symbol. The same symbol it always is."

"Love?" Jazz sighed. "Well, I got you this far…looks like I still have a lot more left to do, don't I?"

"You're welcome to leave at any time." I muttered.

"And give my brother a chance to yell at you to get a therapist again?" She scoffed in mock offense, "Never."

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**Scariest Halloween story ever? Vlad got a therapist. *whisper* What of he actually goes _sane_? Nightmares, I tell you!**

**~Catalyst**


	45. Black Tie

**Heh...updating, alive. :)**

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

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**Black Tie**

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I flicked the yellow stick across my desk, stopping the patter of its roll just before it slid off the edge and nudging it back across the other way, dull eyes tracking its curved movement with a complete loss of interest. I moved the pencil out of the way and settled my boney elbows flat so that my head could rest with a relative level of comfort.

Jazz once told me that my imagination was the best tool to stave off boredom, but when the only thing your imagination can come up with is an army of ghosts tearing your limbs off of your body as your heart stumbles into a frozen state of – well, who needs an imagination anyway?

I'm not that bored. There's always sleep; I mean, I'd be snoozing right now if it weren't for the glitter of sunlight constantly digging into my eyes, or the rotten edges of paranoia chewing at my mind, or the constant freaking _rumble_ of the school band hanging out down the hall.

I'm not tired, anyway. The fact that I'm yawning right now is just coincidence. Yawning comes with the whole territory of detention – Lancer would end up suspecting me of being a robot if I wasn't going to yawn right now. That's the only reason why I'm doing it, I swear.

_Click_. I glanced up in time to see said teacher take his hand away from the desk drawer, a red pen fast within his grip. "Grading papers?" The question slipped out of my throat unbidden, desperately searching for a modem of conversation. Well, no, not desperately. I can't be _that_ starved of mental activity.

"Mhmm." He didn't even bother to look up at me, just picked up a jumbled stack of paper and began to scan them with an expert eye.

I watched him for a moment before deciding on something more to say, "That the Macbeth analysis worksheet?"

"This is punishment time, Mr. Fenton, not talk time." He mumbled, sparing me one warning look before re-immersing himself into his work.

I sighed, tapping my fingers across the desk, "What did I do this time, anyway?"

"You haven't turned in an assignment for two weeks, late to class seven times this month, and we had to mark you as truant for the amount of class you've completely ditched recently." He paused, frowning, but continued grading.

I groaned, "Wait, when did I become truant?"

Lancer picked up a graded worksheet and started a "finished" stack. "Last week, you skipped the entire day. Again."

"Oh, yeah…" I trailed, inspecting the scars dug into my desk and wondering if it was a ghost that put those there or a kid with a dried out pen. You never could tell these days…

"At this point we're beginning to suspect gang activity." Lancer supplied.

"What?" I snapped straight up, glaring, "I'm not in a gang!"

My teacher shrugged and put down his pen, finally focusing his narrowed eyes onto mine, "Do you have any other suggestions?"

My heart thudded loud in my own ears and I reluctantly relaxed, deciding not to meet that scowling expression head on. "No, sir."

He snorted, "Of course you don't, Mr. Fenton. You never do."

When I managed to tear my eyes off of my socks he was working on papers again, blissfully ignoring me. The sensation of boring monotony wrapping back up around the room was practically tangible by the heat of lazy sunlight on my arm, the _tick-tock_ of the clock, and Lancer's red pen dancing across schoolwork.

Something in my chest seemed to detach itself and sink to the bottom of my core, a chilly, depressed feeling assaulting my mind when I once again placed my head in my hands. I hate detention. I really, honestly do.

It was a few minutes of sitting, watching the seconds drip by in slow motion when a soft knock landed on the door. To the watch of both mine and my teachers gaze a tall man decked in a heavy black suit entered, his deep scowl darkening more than his sunglasses managed to handle.

"Can I help you?" Lancer asked with a quirked eyebrow.

"Yes," The man growled, staring directly at me. "I'm looking for Daniel Fenton."

My teacher stood, "Why?"

"Classified." The man started towards me, a thick hand glinting in the light of the handcuffs he was carrying.

I blinked, "Um, hi…" I trailed, eyeing the item in his fingers with extreme suspicion. "Who are you?"

"Classified."

"That the only word you know how to say?"

"No."

I nodded, slowly sliding out of my chair and taking a large step away from the suit. "Right. Okay. Um…why are you looking for me?" I rolled my eyes while at the same time shifting my feet to a sturdy position, poised to run, "Let me guess, classified?"

"No." The suit did not move to follow me, instead holding out a hand with the cuffs open for me to grasp, "I'm your escort, sir."

Mr. Lancer got next to me, "Escort?"

"For what?" I added, cautiously moving backwards again. There was a wall at my back—not that it'd do much to stop me, but I do have an identity to worry about…

He cocked his head to the side, "I don't think you should attempt running, Mr. Fenton. We've come a long way to find you."

I was just about to scoff in response when my teacher slipped in front of me, placing a body between myself and the mysterious suit, "Hold on just a moment, now, I want to see your ID before you say another word."

The man shrugged, reach into his pocket and took out a tiny silver capsule, "Will this suffice?"

"That's not a—" My teacher shuddered for a moment, white smoke trailing up and spiraling across his face, and with little more than a grunt he fainted into the waiting arms of the man, who promptly placed him on top of a desk with little more care than if he were setting down a heavy box.

My eyes widened and I stumbled away, "You—you just…" A small piece of my mind forced my concentration away from my fallen teacher, screaming in sudden panic, _get out_!

I barely had time to spin around before the cold clasp of a cuff wheedled its way around my wrist. Instantly, I attempted to phase out of the device, searching in my soul for the icy ghost within.

Empty. Of course. Ghost-resistant handcuffs.

I twirled to face my opponent, somewhat surprised to find the other end of the handcuffs were wrapped around his own wrist as the black-suited man grinned at me, "Sorry for the scare, Mr. Fenton, but I'm here to help you."

"Who is?" I freaked, trying beyond might to twist out of the cuffs on my wrist. "What, are you the…the GIW? Did they run out of white suits or something?"

His smile faltered, but only for a moment, "Please, don't confuse us with our pathetically violent sister unit. I'm agent K of the Men in Black."

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**Yeah. I went there.**

**~Catalyst**


	46. First Step

**I figured I could go with an update. I'm getting ready to go to Poland, graduate high school, and a bunch of other stuff that has me super busy. :) But here. some love~**

**Disclaimer: Don't own.  
**

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I was groggily pulled from my sleep as mom gently rocked my shoulder until my eyes fluttered open to a blurry room and mom's soft smile. "Oh." I crossed my eyes and sneezed, sitting up with reluctance, "Did you make cookies?" I wondered, knowing that smell that deliciously tingled in my stomach.

"They're in the oven, honey." Mom tussled my hair until I pushed her hand away. "Your friends are here to see you, sweetie." She stepped aside and walked out of the room, leaving behind two shy teenagers, smiling politely.

"What are you two doing here?" I whispered, my heart suddenly panicking. My fingers vanished from my hand as I pushed the blanket off my legs and stumbled out of bed. I swear it was the floor that heaved up to catch my foot, but when Tucker caught my fall he pushed me back in bed with little effort.

"Be careful, Danny." He scolded, glancing at my door for a second and then nodding to Sam, who closed it with a soft _click_. "We came to see if…you know."

I nodded, beads of sweat kissing my forehead. "It hasn't worn off yet—but I'm sure it will, I mean," I grinned, "If I was dead I'd stay that way, right?"

"Sam thinks it's permanent." Tuck rolled his eyes as said girl seated herself next to me and busily yanked a book out of her backpack, muttering to herself.

"This," She tossed the book on my lap, "Is a book on ghost physics. I thought you might want to read it, since you're about to die and all."

"This was written by my parents." I commented dryly.

She glowered at me for a moment, "_Read it_, Danny. It says that ghost biology, once intertwined with living biology, is nothing but a _detrimental disintegration_ of your life." She frowned deeply, "Technically, you've commit suicide, and somehow it's just taking a while for you to die – can I check your chest?"

"What?" I blushed and cuddled my blanket close to me. "S-Sam!"

"I need to see if your heart is still beating." Her dark gothic eyes stared at me mockingly.

"I'm not your lab rat." I huffed and tossed my blanket sideways, hiding my embarrassment. "It's going to wear off soon—you'll see."

"Danny…" Tucker gaped.

"Yeah?"

"Danny, your head is gone." Sam replied promptly.

I squeaked and leaned over to see the mirror on my dresser—I caught only a glimpse of headless me before my face suddenly flickered into the visual spectrum—my eyes were wide, bloodshot—_panicked_. "What if I do that when mom's around?" I whispered, touching my cheek to make sure it was real.

It was, in fact, pretty solid. For now.

Sam patted my shoulder, "If it's any condolence, once you're totally dead it won't matter."

"I'm not dying." I shrugged her hand off and placed my head on my hands, deep in thought. "Guys, what if this is _permanent_? I can't be invisible and falling through stuff all my life—someone's going to notice."

"Yeah, and then the government will come dissect you like an alien!" Tucker joked, punching my shoulder. "Calm down, dude. Maybe you can control it? I mean…can you control changing into the, um, ghost?"

I pursed my lips and glanced at him, "Well…I guess. A little. But…it sounds silly."

"What?"

"I had trouble, you know, because I have to focus to become … _it_," And here would be a _great time_ for me to disappear, but of course I _can't_ when I want to, "I have to say this little phrase—it, um, helps me."

Sam folded her arms and lifted a brow at me while Tucker begged to know what it was. I shook my head and curled my knees to reach my chin. "It's, uh…okay, don't make fun of me." I blushed. "It helps when I say "going ghost" while I'm changing. Heh." I blushed. Deep. "Stupid, huh?"

"I think it's cool!" Tucker grinned.

Sam glared at him, "It is pretty dumb, yeah…" She glanced at me sympathetically and tried to smile. "But if it helps you, I mean…sure. Going ghost. A battle cry."

"For a warrior." Tucker added, "After all, who's going to fight all the ghosts coming through the portal?"

"That was only _one_ little light-blob thing, and he ran away after destroying a few beakers." I chided, "It's not like ghosts will suddenly decide to haunt this town because there's a portal down there. I don't even think any of them are really _solid_ enough to."

"I don't know," Sam shook her head, "I've read plenty of books and ghosts are really—"

"Fiction." Tucker and I sang together. We grinned at one another – Sam's always using her gothic vampire/zombie apocalypse books as examples. I'm glad we've gotten so synchronized in ignoring it. "The ghosts aren't really ghosts, Sam," I continued, "They're just not…" I pursed my lips, "_Solid_. I think."

"Still," She grinned suddenly, pulling a slip of paper from her pocket. "If you're going to fight the ghosts coming through the portal, and since you already have a battle cry, you might as well have a superhero nickname."

Tucker nodded, "Sam and I were talking on the way here. We think if it really does stay the way it is, you have to act the part. You already have the costume, so we decided on some names."

My friends' facial expressions were beyond wicked.

"The Shade Slayer."

"Ghost Grappler."

"Super Danny!"

"Poltergeist Police."

"Specter Deflector."

"Soul Guard."

"Phantom Fright."

"Spook Nuke."

"Undead Danny."

"Demon Patrol."

"Danny's Shadow."

"Haunted Hunter."

"Ghost Buster."

"Tucker, that's taken." Sam rolled her eyes, "I still like _Invisible Angst_. It sounds spooky."

"That's dumb." Tuck scowled, "I like _Impossible_ _Intangible_. It's mysterious and creepy."

I glanced between both of them, "Did…you two write a list?"

While Sam handed me the slip of paper while Tucker grinned eagerly and pulled out his PDA. "We have bunches more – flip through them, and pick Shade Slayer. I have ten bucks on it."

I bit my lip, skimming the sheet—_Ghost Hoax_? "I thought we decided this, um, _condition_ was temporary?"

"It helps to be prepared," Tucker pressed, "We don't really know what's wrong with you, so we might as well get ready. Just in case."

"Just in case I've been turned into a radioactive nut in spandex?"

"Basically, yeah." Sam tossed her arm over my shoulder and browsed the list of names with me. "Pick something, Danny. Your mom's cookies smell delicious."

"So long as they're not glowing." I responded absentmindedly. "How about Phantom? I like that."

"Phantom Fright?" Sam asked, leaning in to peer at the option I pointed to. "Oh, come on, Danny, _Tucker_ came up with that one."

I shook my head and handed the PDA back to Tuck. "Not the fright part. But Phantom sounds kinda cool. Phantom Guardian?"

A pause, they mulled it over. "A bit pretentious." Sam decided. "Besides, it'll be weird—going from calling you Danny to having to call you phantom or guardian or some silly high and mighty nickname. Can we keep Danny in it?"

I was shaking my head but Tucker was nodding. "Really?"

"We have to keep your identity secret," Tuck agreed, "Like a _real_ superhero. But if we call you Danny on accident, it'll totally give you away."

I wasn't agreeing. "I look like myself as a ghost—people will make the connection!"

"Mm, nooo," Sam shook her head in tune with Tucker, "I've known you for _years_ and no matter how much I know your face, when you were…_it_, well…I swear I couldn't recognize you. At all. Those first few minutes before you changed back were so confusing. I knew it was you, I think, but…" She closed her eyes, "Just, _no_. You were way too different."

"Really?"

Tucker nodded very seriously, "Dude, you were a whole new person."

I glanced between them skeptically before I sighed, almost too dramatically. "Alright, fine. Phantom Danny?"

"Ugh." Sam flinched, "No, nonono. Danny Phantom. If anything."

Tucker nodded. "I like it. It has a nice ring. _Danny Phantom_ – I could dig it."

I half chuckled, "There we go. I now have a superhero name." My nose drifted to the door, "Now can we go get some cookies? That smell is _tormenting_ me."

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**:) Unedited.**

**~Catalyst**


	47. Life of Lies

**Don't look at me like that. I'm living in Poland on exchange right now. You're not just lucky I'm updating; you're lucky this is in English. ;)**

**...But seriously, love you all. When my life gets normal I'll update more. :)**

**Danny (c) Nick, Edited by Amazing Bluie.**

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**Life of Lies**  
_We tell lies when we are afraid... afraid of what we don't know, afraid of what others will think, afraid of what will be found out about us. But every time we tell a lie, the thing that we fear grows stronger._

* * *

The slow heartbeat of hands tapping uncertainly filled the lapse of sound for half a moment before some anonymous laughter broke out across the room and noise erupted like the opening of floodgates. Purple eyes lifted from the plate below them and wandered across the table. Their owner sighed, "Danny."

The boy jumped, his head jerking forward to rapidly scan the cafeteria. After recognizing the hard glare of the girl in front of him, however, he relaxed and dragged a hand through his messy tangles of black hair. "What?"

"You look like death," she stated blandly, eyeing his wrinkled clothing, the heavy bags under his eyes, and the pale twitches of tightened skin over knuckles. "Are you even going to tell me what's wrong?"

Fingers so bruised they were nearly black played with a fork as the boy bit his lip. "I was hoping you decided not to mention it." He whispered.

The girl known as Sam scoffed and rolled her eyes. "I was _going_ to wait until you were ready to say something." Adding to her tone, the curled expression on her face clearly stated her opinion of waiting. "You've hardly spoken a word all day, you've jumped at every _hint_ of a sound, and frankly—you look like you haven't slept in days. You wanted me to ignore that?"

Danny flinched and stabbed his fork into a goopy pile of mystery meat. He kept his head down for a long time, chin twitching with words that refused to speak. His chest heaved—a deep breath, a lick of the lips—as he nervously glanced up at her waiting gaze. "Sam, I—"

The shrill ring of a scream cut off his sentence. Both teens swiveled to view the sinister curl of purple energy at the room's wide double doors as students expertly scattered away, under tables, against walls, and behind lunch trays. A fizzle of frozen air in front of the boy's mouth went unnoticed as the girl leapt it her feet and yanked a purple, spider-shaped bag with her. "Danny! Here!" A silver thermos covered in sickly green veins was thrust into the boy's lap.

His pale face blinked at the item, and then glanced back to the front of the room—the only entrance, the only exit. A ghost had finished its materialization, witch-like nose flaring out from streaming purple locks as sinister laughter swept shivers through the room. "Hello, pretties!" it called, thrusting a basket full of purple vegetables around. The girl pushed at her friend. "Danny, wake up!" Hardly wasting a moment, she emphatically whispered, "Time to _go ghost_."

When the boy didn't move she gripped his shoulders and pulled him to his feet. "What are you _doing_?" she snapped, forcing his eyes on hers.

His cold blue gaze bit into her, an unexplainable sorrow filling every ounce of them as he nodded, almost mechanically. "Okay." She felt her fingers numb as he turned and walked towards the ghost, Fenton Thermos loose in his grasp. They way he'd looked at her…so desperate, pleading. _Sorry_.

"…Danny," she whispered under her breath. An ache knotted in the pit of her stomach and she knelt down, pulling a glowing, pistol-shaped item from her bag and activating its charge. Something was wrong, and she could feel it tangibly soak into the air—her muscles were tensed in readiness as she watched her best friend approach the creature.

Danny's dismal human body stood in front of the ghost, tilting his head as he tried to peer through her waist long hair and find the eyes beneath. "Hello," he mumbled, to the shock of his classmates not even displaying a whisper of fear. "Any chance I can convince you to turn around and go home?"

The witch-ghost threw her head back in a standing guffaw, red orbs finally dancing out of her hair as she pushed it aside, "Such a skinny boy, skinny, skinny…" She chuckled, "We can fatten you up, yes; fatten you up and tie you up and feed you to my darlings." She hissed, "_My pretty pretty darlings_."

The boy sighed, "So... that's a no?"

She grinned, sharp teeth glinting as she licked her lips and stepped closer to the boy. "Yes, yes, be good now!" She giggled and held out a hand to him, _closer, closer_, "Be good and don't move, pretty boy." Close, inches away, her clawed fingers tilted to dig at his slender neck… "_Skinny, pretty, boy_…"

With a crack, like rolling thunder, green energy swarmed to life and wrapped around the ghost, twisting and crackling across her thin body. She gasped and hissed, trying to wriggle away from the sudden iron grip of the boy on her elbow, but his eyes grew brighter, filled to the brim with an electric green—he twisted and tossed her to the ground, dissipating the energy with a half-enclosed growl.

Her long shrouds of purple hair lay out across the ground and she hurriedly attempted to untangle herself from it as footsteps fell closer—"No, skinny boy, how can it be? Not ghost, boy, not ghost—a ghost is not good for food, not good for my _darlings_."

"Yeah, I guess you're new in town." The boy knelt down next to her as he triggered a bright, fizzling reaction that engulfed his skin; sparkling and rotating around the boy, it _transformed_ him. No longer was he a kid in a pale t-shirt and light blue jeans; now he wore black, his eyes had become vivid green, and his hair was a mess of white tangles. The _ghost_ was obviously, clearly, not human.

The cafeteria that, moments earlier had been a swarm of noise and shouts and students, had grown eerily silent. Only the scuffles of a surprised and glowing creature could be heard, murmurs of sweet insanity dripping out of her lips, "_Make a cannibal out of my darlings…trickster…traitor…not possible…not fair_…"

The slick sound of metal scraping against metal stopped the ghost, her wide red eyes staring in sudden terror at the rotation of a lid. "Into the thermos, lady." Danny – Phantom, mind – commanded, aiming the device at her and activating its power. Blue energy weaved a magnetic web around the woman, impervious to her wild screams, as it pulled her in.

Silence followed. The boy stood and looked around the room, almost challenging, until he stopped on a familiar figure wearing a black shirt, her shocked expression slowly turning into fury. "_What_?" The girl snapped, stalking forward with the knowledge that _everything_ had suddenly, inexplicably changed. "What did you go and do that for!"

He didn't respond. A blink, a relaxation of arms to his sides, and not a move. "Danny—you—you just!" She grit her teeth as she ground out, "Talk. _NOW_."

Even among the sudden whispers filling the air, his voice carried above all. The release of ghostly energy fizzled against the floor when the boy changed back into his human form, a small, sad smile on his face. "I'm sorry, Sam."

She froze, the look in his eye…the complete broken acceptance. Her voice came back softer, gentle, "_What's wrong_?" She ignored the rising commotion of students as they cautiously began to step closer, talking, mumbling, wondering. She trusted Danny, he knew something—something that meant more than a secret. "What is it, Danny?"

"I'm dying." He stated simply, tipping his head to the side.

The girl stiffened, a hesitation of sheer uncertainty slipping into her posture. "W—what?"

He nodded, unable to rid himself of the ironic smile on his lips—it twitched, as if wanting to collapse, but he held himself together. "I've tried to fix it, but there's nothing I can do. I don't have much time—a day. Two."

Sam opened her mouth but no protest fell out; she couldn't. The compilation of the way he was acting, the way he simply _looked_ at her with such finality. It was like a fact: plain, obvious, shattering. There was no point in questioning his words. After a wobbled step, she said the only thing she could, the only question that seemed to make any sense. "What do we do?"

"That's easy." He grinned, shrugging off the weakness that had engulfed his posture and turned to face his classmates, "We stop lying."

* * *

**~Catalyst**


	48. Now Hiring

**I know I just said updates would be slow. And they will be. Soon. ... :) I write when I'm not supposed to.**

**Danny (c) someone else.**

* * *

**Now Hiring  
**

* * *

I bit into my burger, chewing slowly. I wanted to say no, that I'm not really looking for anything new. Then again, the man sitting in front of me—staring oh so intently at the method in which I picked up another french-fry and tossed it in my mouth—would not accept such an answer. I just knew it.

I guess I could play some mind games with him, then, just to get him to go away. Annoyances like him were enough already. I was done talking to reporters and scientists, to political candidates and screaming females. I was somewhat done eating in public, too, if this was going to keep happening. There's something about people watching the way I eat that makes me uncomfortable. I simply don't like it.

But, who am I to say anything about it? It was my decision to go this way – my consequences. I guess I'm kind of responsible now. I have to answer questions, I have to play the game—but this is just ridiculous. I shouldn't have to listen to _this_ guy, of all people, tell me I'm in the wrong place, doing the wrong thing.

I know I could have asked someone else to help me with all of this, found a way to make pests like this guy disappear—but I suppose I don't roll that way. Huh. I always wondered how I'd handle fame, and I never really saw it going down like this.

Interviews at the Nasty Burger. I snorted. Who would have guessed it? Oh, well. I have to get back to work after this – and I really don't care about this guy's opinion-of-whatever. "Look," I stated firmly, watching his pale eyes jump from my tray, "If you're going to ask any more questions, I suggest you send them to my website where they can be handled in an orderly manner. I have to get back to—"

"Don't!" he chirped, jolting to his feet and straightening his uniform. I sighed and rolled my eyes, making my disappointment clear.

"_What_?" I snapped. He hesitated, holding up a hand and shuffling through his untidy manila folder. "Y-you need to...I-I mean, we would like you to, um…." He trailed off and slipped out a form, handing it across the table.

The papers slid next to my tray and stayed there, untouched by my greased fingers. My arms were folded and my eyes were glaring. "I don't like you," I stated flatly. "And I don't like where your agency stands. Are we clear?"

The timid agent nodded, and I again cursed the GIW. They think sending their most mediocre, _timid_—it's pathetic, what they've been doing just to suck up to me enough for a conversation. I have half a mind to write them an invective letter informing them of the importance of "growing a pair" and "facing me like a man." I'm tired of these stupid field agents that don't know how to stand on their own two feet.

"I'm out." I stood and pushed past the guy-whose-name-I-hadn't-bothered-with. "Next time, why don't you send some real agents. You know," I tossed a pretty tip to the table, for the sink the Box Ghost had broken in the bathroom, "someone who actually _knows_ what they're doing."

The agent stuttered and I pushed past him, waving a brisk goodbye to the manager and marching out of the eatery. I have work to do. Really. Seriously, a lot of work. I don't really know what yet—but I'm sure there's some poltergeist out there that needs my attention. "W-wait!" A pesky voice batted against my ear insistently, "We-we want to h-hire you!"

I froze, my eyes half-risen to inspect the nearly cloudless skies as my shoulders tensed—agitated. "Hire me?" I mumbled, turning to inspect him. He stood, half in the doorway, holding out a clump of papers and staring at me in despondency.

"Hire me?" I repeated, louder. Something wasn't quite right—or, well, this was just… I shook my head, trying to find a way to make it as comical as I'm sure I'd find it later. "For what?" I asked, beckoning the idiot closer, "I don't suppose you're joking, are you?"

The man handed me his folder, his hands shook as they moved, jolting unsteadily. I gave him a sour look and took the thing, flipping through it—wouldn't you guess it, an application form. "You know I don't even _have_ a resume," I stated, "and I already do everything I can to protect this town – I get a presidential pension every month, I have no need for money." I scoffed, "What on _Earth_ would you need me for?"

I paused, chewing my lip, "Other than tearing me apart to analyze my organic structure, of course."

"That goes without saying." The agent half-chuckled, and then froze, covering his mouth in obvious horror. I lifted an eyebrow—is it me, or…

"Bet you didn't mean to say that, huh?" I grinned slyly, watching the color infuse his cheeks. "Don't tell me you've actually got a sense of humor?" The agent stuttered but I cut him off with hand gesture. "Relax. What's your name?"

"Agent—"

"Your name," I pressed, glaring, "No more of that letter garbage, k?"

He looked at me and his lips opened, then closed. He turned, glanced back at the Nasty Burger, and his shoulders slumped, "W-well…." He sighed and turned back to me. "My-My name is Bleckley. Roger."

"Weird." I nodded down the street. "Let's take a walk, Rog." I started walking and didn't look behind me to see if he'd follow—it was obvious that he would. These people have a tendency to… do anything. I guess. Timid, shy, a little heavy on the stutter—but, still, it's not every day I get sharp comebacks. It's a moment, I must admit, I kind of relish. I'd feel accomplished if I can work another one out of him. "Tell me what the GIW wants to hire me for."

"Processing information management," the man stated cleanly, then froze, made a scuffling sound that was near to tripping over himself, and then caught up next to me. "I-I mean, that's what I do. It'd be y-your job to bring in the infor-information. Help us re-search ghosts."

"I already cleared it with the government that I'm not writing any reports." I rolled my eyes. "Now they want to pay me to? No." I watched him from the corner of my eye—his brow was furrowed and he watched the ground in front of him with acute attention. His lips moved in mute conversation with himself.

I'm pretty sure he would have been embarrassed if I hadn't hidden my amusement so well, but his response was, unexpectedly, very clear and fluent. "We only really want to work with you, and learn new things. The agency wishes to compile more information concerning specters so that, on any occasion that the city is under an unmanageable siege – or by leave of your absence, the city remains under protection and without chaos."

He smiled in a way that I felt alienated by, like it wasn't meant for me to see the small victory in those eyes. "We'd also like to expand our forces across other spectral hotspots across the globe—there are places that have mild (in comparison) paranormal activity that, re-re" He stopped, frustration suddenly snapping onto his face—and then he slowed and his breathing became deep and regular. "Reee. Regardless could still u-se help."_ A _real_ stutter problem_, I added mentally. They really do know how to pick 'em.

"Of course." I sighed, ringing my hands together and bringing myself back to the issues at hand. "Bring in universal importance, the "world as we know it" is at stake. Not bad. But you've missed the mark—I'm not writing any stupid reports, not following any regulations, and I'm not going to run around like one of _you_." But, in effect, it was possible…there really was a ghost problem growing in other cities across the US and beyond, even.

If they're the ones willing to handle it, well…and if I use that idea the family discussed the other day…Maybe the GIW could, actually, be useful. I wouldn't need to put in as much work, and, after all… "Okay." I grinned, the plan settled, "Okay, yeah, tell you what – we can work together."

"R-really?" Bleckley stared at me with wide, unbelieving eyes.

I slung my arm over his shoulder and leaned in with a secretive smile, "I've got an idea…"

* * *

A man plopped a pile of documents onto his grey desk, staring at them with intense concentration. "Let me get this straight," he drawled, voice contorted with trembling emotion. "He _what_?"

"H-h-h-he. W-w—"

"Stop, just, stop." The man turned briskly, his white suit a flourish, to address the flinching agent. "He specifically requested you? Agent S, I do not understand. He cannot just—just—turn it around like that!" The Agent paced in frustration, pulling off his sunglasses to clean them with a routine swipe.

Spectacles returned to their proper place, the man swiftly moved to inspect his wall—searching for something, anything. "So he wants to hire you. _Specifically_. To…to run the reports, process information and – how dare he suggest that we actually work with those _things_!"

"It _is_ an idea," a woman mumbled, straightening her skirt after she smoothly slid on top of the desk, crossing her ankles comfortably. "Perhaps we should take this as progress, Agent Zero. Agent S has clearly specified that the boy has the same goal we do – maybe if we were to work with the ghosts, as the boy suggests, then it may far excel our learning process concerning the paranormal."

"The ghosts are _evil_!" the Agent spat, pacing faster than he ever had. "And with all due respect, _Mrs. Finch_, this is my operation, not yours." He snarled and folded his arms, "It's a _wonder_ that _boy_ is even allowed in public space; nonetheless treated like a _spoiled_ little prince."

"With all due respect, he _did_ stop the apocalypse." Superintendent Finch sighed and inspected her nails, "Also, as the overseer of this entire operation, I do have the right to make sure we are being productive." She hopped off the desk and wandered to the door, "I believe that Agent S has made significant progress. Thank you, Agent." The man hesitated, nodded quickly, and then scuttled out of her way. "Working with ghosts could be…_very_ productive."

Agent Zero froze, glared. "I'm not working with ghosts. I refuse to be their—their companion!"

"Hmm." The woman smiled, too sweetly, her beady eyes soaking in the room with hunger. "Then you stand in the way of progress, Marshall Blake." She looked at Agent S and patted his flinching shoulder gently, "Have a good day, _Agent Zero_. And please, _do_ get back to Mr. Fenton that we shall be accepting his proposal."

"B-bu-bu—" Roger Bleckley stood in dazed confusion as she marched out of the room, staring at the door in complete disbelief. "D-did sh-she, I—" The former Agent Zero growled in a way that was closer to a scream and shoved past the stuttering man in hot pursuit—in the hall, a series of loud, extraneous yelling could be heard for some time until it was suddenly and unexplainably cut short.

Alone in the quiet office, the newly appointed Agent Zero turned around very slowly, eyeing his surroundings with wide eyes. Almost uncontrollably, a wicked grin split his face in two. He tapped the top of his white suit collar and whispered, "_Master—I'm in_."

* * *

** ...You guys should seriously watch Danny Phantom in other languages if you're trying to learn said languages. :'D It really helps to already know what's going on in a show when you're watching it in Polish. **

**Thanks AB for the awesome help~!**

**~Catalyst**


	49. Trapping Spirits

**I should probably put this in a different category. ...But I'm fairly certain at least 99% of you know exactly what's going on. So it doesn't really matter. :'D **

**_Dedicated_ to the rooster that dresses like a Hawk. Something new for you, luv. :)**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
**

* * *

**Trapping Spirits  
**

* * *

The boy straightened his scarf and tucked his hands into his pockets, stealing a glance around the room before returning to the mirror and watching the cast of his own eyes in the ember glows of a dying fire; he twisted, glanced at the fall of the coat, snug on his shoulders, and allowed his gaze to wander to his left pocket. Couldn't even tell. A tiny smile flickered to life and he turned to the slumped figure squashed in an arm chair next to him, leaning over and whispering, "Get up. It's time to go."

With a jerk, the ginger shot forward and looked around frantically, mumbling incoherently, "M'wake, mum, I—!" His head swiveled to the boy standing over him and his eyes asphyxiated into a scowl, "What time is it?"

"Late enough that everyone in their right mind is in bed." The first boy grinned. He walked around to the table and scooped a book off the top. "So are you coming, or not? Because if you're too tired…"

"No, no, I'm coming." He rubbed his eyes and yawned unconvincingly. "I just need a minute."

"Where are you going?" A shrill voice interrupted, causing both boys to jump and twist awkwardly in astute paranoia. However, upon recognizing the figure, they simultaneously relaxed. She wrapped her nightgown tighter about her and hurried into the dying light. "_Where_ are you going?" She hissed again, glancing around the common room to make sure they were alone, "_It's past curfew!_" She added in a strained whisper.

The red headed boy yawned a second time and sat up straighter, "Hermione, if I had a sickle for every time you said that…"

She cast him only a passing glance before turning to the other boy. "Harry, is this about _that_ spell?" When he didn't respond she clattered forward, cheeks growing hot with fury, "You don't know what it does, you don't know how dangerous it is or how dark the wizard is that created it—"

"Hermione." Harry cut off, rolling his eyes, "this is the _prince_ we're talking about. He hasn't done wrong by me before." In response to her completely unconvinced facial expression—in fact, she'd grown _more_ agitated; he continued with haste, "_Besides_, if anything goes wrong, there's a counterspell."

Her lips tightened and she flung herself to glare at the read head, who had gone back to dozing by the fire. "_Ron_. Certainly you can at least talk some sense into him." The boy, Ron, peered up at her through red locks, mouth opening and closing in unformed words. She grit her teeth, "_Ron_."

He shrugged and glanced to Harry for a small nod of consolidation, "W-well, I'm kind of with Harry on this one." He flinched as her glare deepened into molten daggers and he added, rather weakly, "W-well, I mean, what harm could it do?"

Her arms flew into the air and a deep breath of frustration blew between her teeth. "I can't believe you two! You're honestly going to go and just—for what, _recreation_?" She seethed, ignoring their sudden outburst of protest—such excuses about the downfall of evil was nothing new to her ears—she turned around and headed for the stairs, "Fine then, go, but don't say I didn't warn you." As she stalked up the staircase, there was a too quite mumble that floated downward in patches, unintended to be caught by the ears of the boys below, "…_bad feeling about this_."

Harry and Ron exchanged glances, simultaneously making the decision to gather their coats about them and head towards the door. "You think she might have a point?" Ron mumbled to his best friend. Harry shook his head and pulled an old, silky cloak from a seemingly empty pocket, "We've been talking about this for months, and you're getting cold feet _now_?" He shook his head and handed Ron an end of the cloth to throw over their heads. "...She'd never let us hear the end of it if we turned back now."

Under the cloak of invisibility, and with the help of a most brilliant map, it didn't take long for the boys to get outside and into the cold of October's nights. Befitting to hours such as this, the water of the black lake was eerily quiet and still when the two approached a thicket along its shore. "_Lumos_."

A pinprick of light sparked to life and the pale faces of two shaking forms suddenly came into crystal clear view. Glasses glinting in the wandlight, Harry opened his potions book and flipped to a page bookmarked somewhere near the middle. "So…" He whispered, "Do you want to start?"

"It's your book, mate." Ron mumbled, shifting uncomfortably in the sudden chilly atmosphere. "You do it."

Harry nodded. "Right. Remember the counterspell is _devindilico_, just in case…" He licked his lips and pulled his cloak closer to his shoulders, "Hermione didn't know what she was saying anyway, right?"

The other boy shrugged, "I don't know, mate. A rift into another world? I mean, who _knows_ what could be behind that."

Harry scowled, "Now you're just repeating what she said."

The ginger grinned sheepishly and fiddled with the wand grasped too tightly between his fingers, "It sounded smart though, right?" They chuckled hollowly until a shrill blast of particularly icy wind ripped right through to their bones. Shivering, Ron nodded, "Okay, let's just get on with it."

Harry licked his lips, "Right, okay…" He took in a deep breath and steadied his wand up in the air, a sequence of whispers falling into the darkness as the wand's tip grew brighter. "_Spectancana nocturnia_…_"_

Ron's eyes widened and he took a full step back as the edge of Harry's wand blazed a sickly green and spat sparks at the ground in wild, swirling patterns. It wobbled there, waiting. Harry glanced once at his best friend (who was mumbling something along the lines of _"wicked"_) and then turned back to what was in front of him, continuing to whisper the same enchantment over and over, curving his wand up and around, and then taking it to the ground, marking a fiery green path that crackled and glowed against the tide of the turning night.

When the incantation was finished, his wand completed the circle—or, rather, door-like rectangle—and he stood back, glancing at the book and reading aloud the curvy handwriting, "_Make a doorway out of light, and wait until the moment is right—when you know, say the word; Hillasthos_."

Ron squinted down at the text, "Harry, that's not an h, that's a k." Harry's brow furrowed and he knelt closer to the book, not paying any attention to his outstretched wand as it began to fuel a swirling cloud of palpable green smoke that flowed into their makeshift doorway, popping and sizzling as it hit. "No, Ron, you just don't know how to read his handwriting, clearly…"

He trailed off in response to a particularly loud popping noise. Ron's gaze shot up at the sudden influx of fizzling sound, "H-Harry." Harry's gaze followed that of his friend's and he hissed, jumping back as a large bolt of flaming hot energy jumped away from the swirling doorway of thick greens and onto the sand, roasting what little vegetation had clung there. Ron swallowed and backed away slowly, "Maybe we should close it?"

"I don't even know if it's open." Harry replied, steadily backing away behind the thicket of thorn bushes they had chosen to contract their spell next to. "The prince said _not_ to try to close it when it's still opening."

"Why not?" Ron snapped.

"Something about trapping spirits." Harry mumbled, "I don't know. It got weird, I didn't fully understand it."

Ron swallowed, "I don't think we have a choice, mate. It's going to set the forest on fire at this rate!" Indeed, as if agreeing with the boy's words, the portal began to grow, hissing edges throwing tremors of roaring energy at everything nearby and reducing it to a smoking pile of ash.

"Okay, then." Harry shrugged, shakily bringing his wand back up to point at the sparkling mass—"_Devindil—"_ Weather or not the rest of the spell was said became suddenly unclear as a roar shook the forest. As if on cue one sharp, giant claw slammed out of the portal and dug itself into the dirt. A growl deeper then the sea escaped into the air as a snout sharper and larger than any dragon they had ever seen pushed the swirling green pedicles aside like a lavish and other worldly curtain.

It sniffed at the wind and then like a demon out of Hell the creature rocketed forward, faster than fast and a blur of pure motion—they caught only the stampede of feet and the crack of snapping wood as the glowing thing with wings leapt into the sky, shrieking at the top of its massive lungs. They watched it go, faces pale, and did not seem to notice the unstable portal produce another creature with gangly arms and legs that glared up at the sky in fury—that is, until it shouted over the roars of the dragon. "THAT'S RIGHT! RUN HOME TO MOMMY!"

The wizards ducked low and watched the newcomer fold his glowing arms and chuckle, "Then again, I don't see the big deal; I hear she's more of a pain then you are." The dragon's great wings beat at the trees as it swooped around with a snarl that echoed across the forest. "_You dare_," A new, sinister voice accused, "_Mention MY mother!_" Harry realized with a start the voice was coming from the hovering dragon itself. Rather than give time for a response, it strangled out a howl and dove for the other floating anomaly, whips of violet fire beating at the darkness.

Harry snagged the cuff of Ron's cloak and yanked him as close to the brush as possible when the pounding of the dragon's wild wings drew maddeningly closer—feral shrieks filled the air and a blue light engulfed the area. A heartbeat, a swell of blinding sound, and then suddenly, nothing. The calm of October's night fell back into place as though a button had been pushed to erase it all.

Shaking, Harry lifted his head to view the last dying pop of the portal closing. "R-Ron, it's gone." He whispered, standing up and glancing around, "I think it just—" He froze when met with an unnatural green gaze that glowed against the pull of the nightscape. A silver device was being fitted onto his back as the glowing creature (nothing more than a boy—almost), in kind, inspected the boy who lived.

"Is that British?" I thick, American accent drawled uncertainly. Ron slowly joined the still form of his best friend, staring in wonder at the thing before them. The creature tilted his head, "Am I in England?" Almost unconsciously, the thing turned around and staggered at the sight of a castle looming up the hill, "…Um, w-what year is it?" It added weakly.

Amongst the shouts of wizards racing out of the castle towards the commotion, and the growing panic of the questions fired off by the creature they had, accidentally, just trapped in their own world; Ron leaned in and whispered into Harry's ear, "Hate to say it, but, I think Hermione was right."

* * *

**See? This hardly has a whisper of Phantom. It belongs in the crossovers. OH WELL. :) Thanks to DragonDancer for editing~  
**

**~Catalyst**


	50. Yin and Yang

Responding to a challenge that turned into an evil plot bunny with a white picket sign.

** WARNING: The following content may not be found applicable by certain readers, as it contains genderbending and implied misconduct of a troublesome nature. Rating: T. Genre: Angst/humor.**

* * *

_Yin and Yang, black and white, ghost and human, dead and alive, boy and…girl?_

* * *

"So, what happened?" Sam propped her chin up and watched Danny stab at his food.

He observed her through overgrown tangles of unruly hair. "Nothing." Danny frowned, heat rushing to his cheeks and he avoided her knowing gaze by returning to the mess of gooey chili fries, "Just a normal ghost fight."

Sam lifted an eyebrow, the crook of a smile at the edge of her lips. "Oh, come on," she teased, "What'd they do this time?"

"What did who do this time?" Tucker arrived just in time to see Danny flinch, and he sent a sympathetic frown in his best friend's direction. "Lay off it, Sam. It isn't funny."

The goth rolled her eyes and leaned back, eyeing Tucker's piled-high tray of meat with wary distaste. "I wasn't antagonizing him, Tuck. He can keep it to himself if he wants to." She folded her arms and turned to the window, abruptly cutting herself off from further conversation. Tucker slid into place next to Danny; after an awkward moment's hesitation, he patted Danny's back. "Do what you need to, dude."

Danny pushed a heavy breath out of his lips and dropped his fork, "I can't eat this," He proclaimed, sliding his tray across the table towards Sam. She glanced at it – once and with a curled nose – before placing her attention on the clouds brewing outside. "It was…Johnny 13, by the way." He muttered.

Both of his friends instantly stopped what they were doing to stare at him, wide-eyed. Sam's lips pressed together so hard they turned white, "Did he…?" Danny cut her off with a solid glare. _Don't ask_, it said.

He might as well have just told her everything. They knew, Danny knew, but none of them were going to talk about it. That's how it always went. The trio sat together in silence, listening to Tucker chew or watching a group of birds flutter passed the eatery; that is, until a horde known as the Dash Baxter Brigade barged in laughing so hard their humanity was showing.

Sam watched them approach the Nasty counter with little interest. "I don't get it," She muttered, "For such a 'classy' guy, he has to come _here_ for lunch?" They'd been discussing the politics of teenage hangouts for ages, and Sam still couldn't seem to wrap her head around the fact that both nerds and A-Listers _willingly_ hung out at the same place outside of school.

Relieved to have something to talk about, Tucker jumped onto the subject, projectiles of munched food working out passed his teeth. "Sam, it's really not that complicated. _Everyone_ comes here."

She scowled, "That's stupid. Dash is probably hated by the entire working staff. They could do anything to his food—and, he has the _money_ to go somewhere _else_."

"So do you." Tucker grinned, "And unlike you, he has an appreciation for what they serve here. Stop being such a big hypocrite, Sam."

Her gaze cut into him like ice, "I'm not a hypocrite; we were here _first_. Right, Danny?"

Danny had his head turned down, and he'd sunken so far in the booth his nose was nearly level with the table. "Danny?" Sam blinked.

He shrugged, casting a suspicious glance around the room that lingered on Dash for too long. "Can we change the subject, please," he whispered.

Sam lifted an eyebrow, folding her fingers together and stretching her elbows on top of the table. "We did change the subject. Now you want a new one? What are we going to talk about, the weather?" She smiled amusingly at Tucker, "Hey, Tuck, it's raining in the spring. Funny that."

"I'm serious." Danny scooted himself up and shook his head, flinching when Dash grabbed his food and headed in their direction. His entire face down to his neck had gone a deep shade of pink. When the jock's booming voice came within earshot, Danny buried his head into folded arms and stayed there.

"—digs me, I'm telling you! She even remembered my name, first _and_ last!" One of the jockimus posy let out a low whistle, "I heard on Specterwatch that ghosts only remember really important things."

Dash was grinning from ear to ear when he sat not two tables away, his story carrying across the room. "She was awesome in that ghost fight. Incredible, like the hottest thing to ever exist ever. A total bad ass, you should have seen her take that other ghost down like he was _nothing_!"

"How'd it happen?"

At their table, a small groan lifted from the tussle of black hair next to Tucker. Dash continued mercilessly, "When I showed up this ghost with a motorcycle – probably something he stole – was talking to her. They weren't yelling so I couldn't hear what they were saying, but she looked _pissed_. Threw the first punch," His team of cronies nodded in approval, "And he didn't stand a _chance_, she beat him all the way across the football field without even breaking a sweat—near where I was standing, actually, so I was close enough to hear the end of the fight."

"So what'd she say?" One of them leaned in excitedly, his Leatherman's jacket stained with ketchup, watching in awe as Dash leaned back with a satisfied smirk, "Oh, he was making moves. But she was yelling at him, like, the worst names in the book. And he got all offended, said she liked _humans_ more then she liked her own kind; and then she just took him out right then and there. He was _gone_ in an _instant_."

"No way." Kwan breathed, "…You really think she likes humans more than ghosts?"

"Duh." Dash rolled his eyes, "Why else would she always be fighting them? Besides," he grinned, "I _checked_."

The table erupted with whistles and catcalls, cheers, and encouragement. Sam abruptly stood up, jerked her chin at Tucker—who did the same, grabbing Danny's arm and pulling him from the table. He stared at his shoes the entire way out of the door, pretending not to hear Dash lavishly go on, "We _totally_ made out, you know—"

The door to the Nasty Burger closed behind them. Tucker was holding Danny's arm with such force it was already turning purple, but he made no complaint. Sam was hissing like a wild animal. "That sick bastard." She growled, "He can't just take advantage of people like that!"

Danny blinked rapidly while they walked down the sidewalk, "It didn't…it didn't happen like that, you know." He whispered softly. "I—I was hurt, I didn't—"

"Hush." She wrapped her arm across his shoulders, "You don't need to explain yourself."

Her proximity made the distinct tremble of her hands all the more apparent. Danny took a deep breath and blundered on anyway, "I hate this." He said simply, "I hate it so much."

"You're doing good things, Danny—"

"That's not what I'm talking about!" He hissed, pushing her away and backtracking to shove a thin finger at the Nasty Burger, "That's not how it should be! I should be _normal_, like Vlad! Not—not this, this _thing_—not like…not so…ugh!" He threw his arms in the air and marched passed his friends, "God, everything's wrong with me! I'm not even me, I'm a—a her and a he and I don't know—what if she has a mind of her own? What if I'll get struck by weird girly hormones? What if I _want_ Dash to – to –" He shuddered, "Nevermind. That'll be a cold day in Hell."

"Dude, we've been through this," Tucker matched his best friend's pace with pity in his eyes, the speech already sounding old and overused, "We can run more tests, but the genetic change of your biology hasn't had any effect on your mind. …Well, except Jazz's psychology stuff. You're still you, when you change form there won't be another brain in your place; you have to focus on that."

Danny froze, his face contorted incredulously, "I turn into a _girl_, Tucker. I'm not a super hero from a comic book who can cope with this stuff. I'm. A. _Girl_."

"And whoever said there was something wrong with being a girl?" Sam cut in, "It doesn't matter what you look like, Danny, you can still kick ghost butt from here to the edge of the Ghost Zone, and no one—"

"Everyone."

"—can say a thing about it." She put a forceful hand on his shoulder, "_You_ are Dani Phantom. You save lives. The end."

Danny frowned, but his anger was dying anyway. He shook his head, "I'm going to beat Dash's head in when I see him next."

Sam grinned, "That's the spirit! Saving lives, putting bullies in their place! …And, while we're on the subject," Her eyes twinkled mischievously, "Is he a good kisser, or…?"

Danny pushed her away, but this time it was accompanied by a friendly eye roll, "I wouldn't recommend it. Pretty slobbery. But, if _you_ want a go at him, by all means…"

"Oh, now I'm just disgusted." Tucker clutched his stomach, "Do we have to talk about this after eating?"

Danny and Sam exchanged glances, chuckling, "No, Tuck, we can pretend none of today ever happened." Sam nodded, "But it's probably going to come back to haunt us anyway. You know how evil ghosts can be."

"Yeah. I do." Danny added with a little less humor, sticking his hands in his pockets and speeding up. "Come on. We've got a Doomed marathon to attend, and I don't know about you, but I've got a _lot_ of misplaced aggression to rain down on some noobs."

* * *

**Danny Phantom belongs to Nick and Viacom, I'm also updating without my editor sooo...sorry AB! ^^ I know you're busy, though, and so am I. And wit the time it would take, I'd probably lose interest before we got this published and it would just sit in a sad folder for forever. D:**

** I drew a picture! Danny and his two forms, Y&Y style: catalystofthesoul. deviantart. com/art/Yin-and-Yang-279748938 Remove the spaces.**

**The **original challenge** is here - www. fanfiction. net/s/7454209/1/  
**

**Much love~!**  
**Catalyst**


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